n 

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HAUTAUQUA  SCHOOL  0  ^  THEOLOcV  » 

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Department  of  Human  Nature- 


Rev.  Lyman  Abbott,  Dean  20  Lafayette  Place, 

Care  Christian  Union.  N.  Y.  City. 


QUESTIONS., 

1*  Character  Study. 

I 

Name 

Nationality 
Male  or  female 
Approximate  age 

Temperamental  characterist ics C  such  ,  height;  complexion;  fea 
tures;  shape  of  head;  ^c. 

I 

Probable  Temp erament t  nervous  ?  sanguine  ?  lymphatic  ?  bilious  ? 
or  compound  of  one  or  more  ? 


P'^acts  known  concerning  early  history  and  education. 


Married  or  single  ?  ^  P'avorite  recreations  ? 

Business  pursuits  ?  Companionship  ? 

Characteristics  of  church  life,  e.  g.  Regular  or  irregular 
attendant;  active  or  inactive;  formlof  activity,  as  in  S.S., pray¬ 
er  meeting,  secular  interests  of  churfch. 


Dominant  Motives  ?  1 
Greatest  faults  ?  | 
Greatest  virtues  ?  I 


On  a  scale  of  five  mark  following 
being  maximum,  ;and  one  being  minimum. 
Animal  appetite 
Approbat iveness 
Vanity 

Combat iveness 

Destructiveness 

Self-esteem 


moral  characteristics — five 

Acquisit iveness 

Courage 

Hope 

Love  for  Children 
Love  for  Friends 
Love  for  Mankind. 


Spiritual ity 


or  F^ith. 

1 

I 

\ 


Similarly  mark  mental  characteristics;  Perceptive  faculty; 
reasoning  faculty;  executive  faculty;  retaining  faculty  or  memory 
creative  faculty  or  imagination. 


What  specific  measures  would  you  take  to  (1)  Convert  him  to 
Christ, if  he  is  not  a  Christian  (2)  ( orrect  his  faults, if  ho  is  one 


Return  this  book  on  or  before  the 
Latest  Date  stamped  below.  A 
charge  is  made  on  all  overdue 

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IN 


BY 

LYMAN  ABBOTT,  D.D. 


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NEW  YORK: 

CHAUTAUQUA  PRESS. 

1884. 


Copyright  1884,  by  the 

CHAUTAUQUA  LITERARY  AND  SCIENTIFIC  CIRCLE, 

New  York. 


ZA-\ 

PREFACE. 


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Q 


The  object  of  this  little  book  is  purely  practical.  It  is 
written  to  aid  parents,  teachers,  and  pastors,  in  their  work 
of  character-building  ;  incidentally,  too,  to  aid  each  indi- 
,  vidual  to  build  himself.  It  grew  out  of  a  practical  need, 
and  was  written  wholly  with  a  practical  end  in  view. 

Some  years  ago  Dr.  J.  H.  Vincent  designed,  as  a  part  of 
his  Chautauqua  University,  a  Chautauqua  School  of  The¬ 
ology.  Its  object  was  not  to  supersede  the  thorough 
courses  of  biblical  and  theological  study  pursued  in  the 
seminaries,  but  to  supplement  them  ;  to  aid  pastors  in 
pursuing  their  studies  after  they  had  already  entered  on 
their  parish  work,  and  to  enable  laymen  and  others,  who 
were  engaged  in  ministerial  or  quasi  ministerial  labor,  to 
equip  themselves  more  thoroughly  for  their  work.  He 
proposed  to  incorporate  in  the  curriculum  of  this  Chau¬ 
tauqua  School  of  Theology  a  ^‘Department  of  Human 
Nature,”  the  object  of  which  should  be  to  aid  the  stu¬ 
dent  in  studying  man,  individually  and  socially ;  human 
nature  in  history,  in  fiction,  in  the  parish,  and  in  society, 
thus  enabling  him  to  deal  more  wisely,  because  more 
truly  scientifically,  with  the  problems  of  individual  and 
social  life.  Dr.  Vincent  asked  me  to  take  charge  of 
this  department,  to  create  and  to  cultivate  it.  With 
much  misgiving,  I  undertook  the  task ;  moved  thereto 
partly  by  a  warm  personal  affection  and  esteem  for 
Dr.  Vincent,  partly  by  a  great  respect  for  the  work 
which  he  is  doing,  and  partly  by  a  special  interest  in 
this  particular  department. 

But  no  sooner  had  correspondence  been  opened  with 
the  students  who  desired  to  enter  on  this  study,  than 


4 


PREFACE. 


we  found  ourselves  confronted  with  an  unexpected  diffi¬ 
culty.  There  was  no  analysis  of  Human  Nature  which 
c  mid  be  prescribed  as  a  basis  for  our  proposed  course.  The 
experiment  of  recommending  several  treatises,  and  leaving 
the  students  to  make  their  own  analysis,  was  not  success¬ 
ful,  and  I  was  thus  compelled  to  prepare  an  introduction  to 
our  study  before  we  could  prosecute  it.  Hence  this  treat-  . 
ise,  the  product  of  studies  pursued  as  recreation  for  many 
years,  but  of  composition  completed  in  a  few  months. 

Having  once  undertaken  to  write  at  all,  I  have  endeav¬ 
ored  to  prepare  this  Study  in  Human  Nature,  in  a  form 
so  practical,  so  simple,  and  so  broad,  that  it  might  be  a 
help  to  every  mother  who  desires  to  study  the  nature  of 
her  child,  every  teacher  who  wishes  to  study  the  nature 
of  his  pupil,  every  pastor  who  aims  to  study  the  character 
either  of  his  parish,  or  of  a  single  parishioner.  All  scholastic 
subtleties,  all  doubtful  disputations  between  different 
schools,  all  technical  terms,  I  have  carefully  avoided.  My 
aim  is  not  to  expound  a  system  of  philosophy,  but  to  in¬ 
cite  the  reader  to  a  study  of  Human  Nature,  and  to  help 
him  in  pursuing  it. 

Mental  science  has  fallen  under  a  popular  ban.  It  is 
thought  to  be  a  hopeless  plowing  of  a  barren  soil.  But  the 
sublimest  work  of  God  is  man,  and  there  can  be  no  wor¬ 
thier  object  of  devout  study  than  him  whom  God  has 
made  after  his  own  image ;  and  surely  no  object  about 
which  we  are  more  concerned  to  know,  whether  we  regard 
our  own  welfare  or  the  well-being  of  our  fellow-men.  To 
all  who  love  their  fellow-men,  and  desire  to  know  and 
serve  them  better,  this  little  attempt  to  aid  them  in  that 
knowledge  and  service  is  dedicated  by 

THE  AUTHOR. 


CoRNWALL-ON  Hudson,  N.  Y. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER.  PAGE 

I.  The  Necessity  op  the  Study .  7 

II.  A  Preliminary  Question .  12 

III.  True  and  False  Materialism .  16 

IV.  The  Temperaments . 27 

V.  Analysis  of  Human  Nature .  31 

VI.  The  Animal  Impulses . 36 

VII.  The  Social  and  Industrial  Impulses .  42 

VIII.  The  Spiritual  Impulses .  49 

IX.  The  Acquisitive  Powers. — i.  The  Senses  and  the  Supersen- 

suous .  58 

X.  The  Acquisitive  Powers — 2.  The  Reflective  Faculties .  66 

XI.  Attention,  Memory,  Will .  71 


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A  STUDY  IN  HUMAN  NATURE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  NECESSITY  OF  THE  STUDY. 


“Know  thyself”  was  an  ancient  Greek  apothegm.  Lord 
Beaconsfield,  in  his  famous  address  before  the  University  of 
Edinburgh,  declared  that  the  fundamental  conditions  of  suc¬ 
cess  in  life  were  two — knowing  one’s  self,  and  knowing  the 
needs  of  one’s  age  or  epoch.  But  of  all  knowledge,  self- 
knowledge  is  the  rarest ;  perhaps,  also,  the  most  difficult  to 
attain.  It  is  only  recently  that  physiology  has  become  a 
study  in  our  schools.  Until  within  a  few  years  all  knowledge 
of  the  body  was  thought  to  be  a  specialty  belonging  only 
to  the  doctors.  Even  to-day  mental  science — the  organism 
and  operation  of  the  mind — is  not  studied  in  our  schools. 
This  is  left  to  the  higher  classes  in  our  colleges,  and  studied 
there  as  an  abstract,  not  as  a  practical,  science.  Every  man 
ought  to  know  his  own  nature ;  his  bodily  strength  and  weak¬ 
ness  ;  his  mental  strength  and  weakness ;  his  moral  strength 
and  weakness.  A  knowledge,  concrete,  not  abstract,  practical, 
"not  theoretical,  of  human  nature,  is  essential  to  the  best  and 
truest  success  in  life — to  health,  to  development,  to  useful- 


ness 


I.  No  man  can  keep  either  mind  or  body  in  health  unless  ^ 
he  knows  what  his  mind  and  body  are.  He  cannot  keep  | 
himself  in  order  unless  he  knows  how  he  is  constituted.  The  ^ 
body  is  a  wonderfully  delicate  machine.  It  is  placed  in  a  -7 
world  where  there  are  many  influences  at  work  destructive  > 
of  it.  There  is  poison  in  food,  in  water,  in  air ;  there  is 


8 


A  study  IN  HUMAN  NATURE. 


“death  in  the  pot.”  There  is  evil  in  excess;  there  is  evil 
in  scant  measure.  Men  suffer  from  too  much  air  and  from  too 
little  ;  from  over-feeding  and  from  under-feeding;  from  excess¬ 
ive  sleep  and  from  too  little  sleep ;  from  too  violent  exercise 
and  from  too  little  exercise.  We  must  know  not  only  what, 
but  also  how  much,  our  bodies  need.  The  specialists  aver 
that  most  men  have  a  streak  of  insanity  in  them.  A  thor¬ 
oughly  sane  mind  is  as  rare  as  a  thoroughly  healthy  body. 
To  keep  the  mind  well  balanced,  to  preserve  it  in  good  order, 
to  enable  it  to  work  clearly,  quickly,  efficiently,  regularly, 
requires  a  knowledge  of  the  mind  and  of  the  conditions  of 
mental  health.  The  ministers  assure  us  that  all  men  are 
diseased  morally.  Life  abundantly  bears  out  their  assertion. 
No  man  is  perfectly  healthy,  morally;  for  perfect  health  is 
a  perfect  balance  of  all  the  moral  powers.  Every  faculty  has 
its  own  disease.  The  conscience  may  become  cruel — witness 
the  Inquisition.  Religion  may  become  superstition — witness 
the  history  of  all  pagan  and  some  forms  of  the  Christian  relig¬ 
ion.  Love  may  become  sentiment — witness  the  story  of 
many  a  child  ruined  by  the  false  love  of  a  doting  mother. 
And  observe  that  every  man’s  body,  mind,  and  spirit  is  dis¬ 
tinct  from  every  other  man’s.  Its  conditions  of  health  are 
peculiar.  What  is  one  man’s  meat  is  another  man’s  poison. 
One  man  needs  cereals,  another  meat ;  one  man  needs  to 
read  more  fiction,  another  needs  to  abandon  it  altogether. 
One  man  needs  to  cultivate  his  reverence,  another  his  con¬ 
science,  a  third  his  sympathy.  To  produce,  to  cultivate,  to 
maintain  health  of  body,  mind,  and  spirit,  every  man  has 
need  to  know  his  own  nature,  the  laws  of  his  own  being,  the 
condition  of  his  own  health. 

2.  Self-knowledge  is  equally  indispensable  to  growth,  edu¬ 
cation,  development.  Some  of  the  Hebrew  scholars  tell  us 
that  the  familiar  text  in  Proverbs  about  child-training  should 
read  :  Train  up  a  child  in  his  own  way,  that  is,  according  to 
the  bent  of  his  natural  genius,  and  when  he  is  old  he  will  not 


THE  NECESSITY  OF  THE  STUDY. 


9 


depart  from  it.  Whether  this  is  sound  exegesis  or  not,  it 
is  certainly  sound  philosophy.  We  must  know  the  nature  of 
what  we  would  develop.  We  must  understand  what  it  is  be¬ 
fore  we  begin  to  shape  and  fashion  it  for  its  future.  Self- 
knowledge  is  the  condition  of  self-culture.  Are  you  deficient 
in  imagination  }  You  must  both  know  that  fact,  and  what 
are  the  methods  of  developing  imagination,  or  you  cannot 
grow  symmetrically.  Has  God  endowed  your  boy  with  quali¬ 
ties  which  fit  him  for  the  merchant }  you  only  waste  your 
time,  and  destroy  his  usefulness,  by  trying  to  make  a  minister 
of  him.  If  Martin  Luther’s  father  could  have  had  his  way 
we  should  have  had  no  Reformation,  or  a  very  different  one ; 
for  he  wanted  to  make  a  lawyer  of  Martin.  History  is  full 
of  instances  of  men  who  knew  their  own  nature  better  than 
their  parents  did,  and  so  came  to  something  in  spite  of 
parental  blunders ;  and  still  fuller  of  instances  of  men  who 
neither  knew  themselves  nor  were  understood  by  their 
parents,  and  so  came  to  nothing.  The  best  seed  will  pro¬ 
duce  fruit  only  in  the  hands  of  one  who  knows  what  it  is,  and 
therefore  what  soil  and  cultivation  it  requires.  Moral  devel¬ 
opment  requires  moral  self-knowledge.  There  is  not  one 
specific  for  all  sins.  Christ  is  not  the  world’s  medicine,  but 
the  world’s  physician  ;  and  his  prescriptions  are  various  for 
various  disorders.  To  grow  in  holiness  is  to  grow  in  health¬ 
iness  ;  and  this  requires  a  knowledge  of  your  own  nature, 
that  you  may  know  what  needs  feeding  and  what  needs 
pruning.  Some  men  are  weak  through  lack  of  self-esteem, 
and  some  men  through  too  much.  Some  men  pay  too  much 
attention  to  other  people’s  opinion,  and  some  men  too  little. 
Some  men  pay  a  blind  reverence  too  easily,  and  some  scarcely 
know  what  reverence  means.  Each  nature  requires  its  own 
education.  The  training  which  will  help  the  man  of  undue 
self-esteem,  will  hurt  the  man  who  has  too  little.  A  chief 
end  of  life  is  to  grow  aright;  and  no  man  can  grow  aright 

unless  he  understands  the  principles  of  his  own  nature. 

1* 


lO 


A  STUD  V  IN  HUMAN  NA  TURK. 


3.  For  the  same  reasons  a  knowledge  of  the  principles  of 
human  nature  is  essential  to  the  highest  and  best  usefulness. 
A  knowledge  of  human  nature  is  the  first  condition  of  the 
successful  conduct  of  life.  Every  business  man,  lawyer, 
doctor,  statesman,  needs  it.  If  a  man  should  attempt  to 
farm  without  any  knowledge  of  seeds  and  soils,  or  to  mine 
without  any  knowledge  of  metals,  he  would  be  sure  to  fail ; 
how  can  he  succeed  in  dealing  with  men  if  he  knows  nothing 
about  human  nature.  The  merchant  needs  this  knowledge 
to  select  his  salesmen;  the  salesman  to  sell  his  goods ;  the 
doctor  to  secure  and  retain  the  confidence  of  his  patients ; 
the  statesman  to  adapt  his  laws  and  policies  to  men  as  they 
are ;  the  editor  to  provide  intellectual  food  that  actual 
readers  will  read  and  profit  by.  All  successful  men  have  a 
knowledge  of  human  nature.  Sometimes  they  have  acquired 
it  empirically,  not  scientifically;  that  is,  they  have  picked  it 
up  by  their  dealings  among  men,  not  by  a  careful  study  of 
principles ;  but  in  one  way  or  the  other  they  have  got  it. 

4.  This  knowledge  is  essential  to  the  well-being  of  the 
family.  Every  girl  ought  to  be  taught  the  general  principles 
of  human  nature,  for  it  is  probable  that  she  will  be  a  mother, 
and  she  needs  this  knowledge  to  know  how  to  care  for  and 
to  train  her  children.  One  of  the  great  causes  of  domestic 
infelicities,  quarrels,  and  divorces  is  ignorance  of  human  nat¬ 
ure.  The  husband  and  wife  do  not  know  either  themselves 
or  each  other;  they  do  not  know  how  to  correct  their  own 
faults  or  the  faults  they  see  in  each  other.  If  they  did,  they 
would  have  hope  of  curing  the  present  evil ;  and  hope  would 
give  patience;  and  patience  would  prevent  bickerings,  and 
strife,  and  separation. 

5.  Especially  is  this  knowledge  of  human  nature  necessary 
to  all  men  whose  professional  duty  it  is  to  train  or  instruct 
others.  The  teacher  needs  it.  It  is  more  necessary  to  him 
than  a  knowledge  of  Greek,  or  Latin,  or  mathematics.  He 
must  know  the  minds  which  he  is  to  mold  and  the  laws  by 


THE  NECESSITY  OF  THE  STUDY. 


II 


which  they  are  to  be  molded.  There  have  been  many 
scholars  greater  than  Thomas  Arnold,  of  Rugby,  but  never  a 
greater  teacher,  because  he  knew  so  thoroughly  well  boy- 
nature  and  its  laws.  The  minister  needs  it.  It  is  more 
necessary  to  him  than  a  knowledge  of  Hebrew  or  theology. 
He  must  know  the  natures  he  is  to  cure,  and  how  to  cure 
them.  He  must  know  the  pathology  of  pride,  vanity,  covet¬ 
ousness,  ambition,  passion,  ifTie  would  either  mend  the  man¬ 
ners  or  change  the  lives  of  his  congregation. 

The  object  of  this  little  treatise  is  to  afford  some  help  to 
ministers,  teachers,  parents,  and  men  and  women  generally, 
who  wish  to  understand  the  general  principles  of  human 
nature,  and  to  aid  them  in  a  study  of  men,  and  women,  and 
children,  for  the  purpose  of  protecting  them  from  temptation, 
developing  them,  and  building  them  up  into  a  Christian 
manhood  and  womanhood — perfect  men  in  Christ  Jesus.  Its 
object  is  wholly  practical ;  its  style  will  be  as  simple  and 
plain  as  I  can  make  it.  __ 

//  ^  .WBW***-  p  ^  g 


t5 


12  -  ^  V  IN  HUMAN  NA  TURE. 


CHAPTER  II. 

A  PRELIMINARY  QUESTION. 

It  has  been  greatly  discussed  among  philosophers  whether 
the  mind  is  simple  or  complex ;  whether  it  is  one  and  indi¬ 
vidual,  or  made  up  of  various  distinct  powers  and  faculties ; 
whether  one  and  the  same  power  imagines,  reasons,  remem¬ 
bers,  feels,  or  whether  there  are  distinct  powers,  of  which  one 
imagines,  another  reasons,  a  third  remembers,  a  fourth  feels. 
Let  me  first  get  this  question  clearly  before  the  reader’s  mind. 

Man  is  equipped  with  various  senses,  each  of  which  has 
its  own  peculiar  function.  It  can  perform  that  function,  and 
no  other.  The  ear  can  hear,  but  it  cannot  see ;  the  eye  can 
see,  but  it  cannot  taste ;  the  palate  can  taste,  but  it  cannot 
smell.  The  body  is  composite.  It  is  made  up  of  different 
organs  or  faculties.  The  whole  man  is  an  orchestra ;  each 
organ  is  a  single  instrument.  If  that  is  broken,  or  gets  out 
of  tune,  no  other  can  take  its  place.  Now  some  persons 
suppose  that  the  mind  is  similarly  a  composite ;  that  it  is 
made  up  of  a  variety  of  faculties  and  powers ;  that  there  is 
one  power  or  faculty  which  reasons,  another  which  compares, 
a  third  which  remembers  or  recalls,  a  fourth  which  imagines, 
etc.  Those  who  hold  this  opinion,  however,  are  not  agreed 
as  to  how  many  mental  faculties  or  powers  there  are.  Some 
suppose  there  are  very  few,  others  that  there  are  very  many. 
A  very  common  classification  or  division  of  the  mind  is  into 
three  powers  or  classes  of  powers  :  the  reason,  the  sensibili¬ 
ties  or  feelings,  and  the  will.  Others  divide  these  generic 
classes  again  into  a  great  variety  of  reasoning  and  feeling 
powers,  each  confined  to  its  own  exercise  or  function,  as  the 
ear  to  hearing  and  the  eye  to  seeing. 


-6 


//:. 


^t- 


^  PRELIMINAR  V  Q  UESTIOJV.  13 


Other  thinkers  suppose  that  there  is  no  such  division ;  that 
the  mind  is  not  made  up  of  a  variety  of  organs  at  all,  that  it 
is  simple  and  indivisible.  The  mouth  is  so  formed  that  it 
can  perform  two  very  different  functions — it  can  eat  and  it 
can  speak.  There  are  not  two  organs,  one  an  eating  and 
the  other  a  speaking  organ,  but  one  organ  which  now  eats, 
now  speaks.  So  some  scholars  suppose  that  there  is  one 
mind  or  soul  which  is  absolutely  indivisible,  but  which  exerts 
itself  in  different  ways  at  different  times :  it  sometimes  re¬ 
members,  sometimes  imagines,  sometimes  loves,  sometimes 
hates,  sometimes  reasons,  sometimes  chooses ;  but  it  is  always 
the  same  power  which  remembers,  imagines,  hates,  loves, 
reasons,  and  chooses. 

Now,  this  is  a  question  on  which  no  absolute  conclusion 
can  be  reached.  We  cannot  analyze  the  mind  as  we  can 
analyze  a  substance  in  a  laboratory,  and  see  what  are  its  con¬ 
stituent  parts,  and  determine  whether  it  has  any  parts,  or  is 
a  simple  substance.  We  have  only  two  methods  of  judging 
about  the  mind,  and  neither  of  these  methods  gives  us  any  con¬ 
clusive  answer  to  the  question  whether  the  mind  is  simple  or 
complex.  We  can  observe  the  operation  of  other  men’s 
minds  by  studying  its  results  in  action,  or  in  speech  which  is 
a  kind  of  action;  and  we  can  study  the  action  of  our  own 
minds  by  looking  within  and  seeing  what  our  own  thoughts 
and  feelings  are.  But,  in  both  these  cases,  we  study  only  the 
operations,  not  the  mind  itself ;  and  neither  a  study  of  the 
results  of  mental  operations  in  the  actions  of  men  and 
women  about  us,  nor  a  study  of  our  own  mental  operations 
by  looking  within  and  trying  to  ascertain  of  our  self-con¬ 
sciousness  how  we  think  and  feel,  throw  any  important  light 
on  the  question  whether  the  mind  itself  is  simple  or  complex. 
All  that  we  know  about  the  mind  is  its  operatinnj  all  else  is 
theory. 

There  are  some  metaphysical  and  abstract  arguments  for  the 
opinion  that  the  mind,  the  I  within,  that  controls  the  body,  what 


14 


A  STUD  V  IN  HUMAN  NA  TURK. 


the  Germans  call  the  ego — which  is  Latin  for  I — is  simple, 
not  complex ;  that  is,  one  power  operating  in  different  ways 
and  doing  different  things.  I  am  myself  inclined  to  think 
that  the  better  opinion ;  but  it  is  not  necessary  here  to  go 
into  this  question  at  all,  for  what  we  are  going  to  study  is  not 
the  mind  itself,  but  human  nature,  that  is,  the  opej'ations  of 
the  mind.  And  there  is  no  doubt  that  the  operations  of  the 
mind  are  complex.  There  may  be,  I  am  inclined  to  think 
there  is,  but  one  power,  which  perceives  and  thinks  and  feels 
and  wills ;  but  perceiving  and  thinking  and  feeling  and  will¬ 
ing  are  very  different  actions,  and  it  is  only  with  the  actions 
that  we  have  to  do. 

In  this  book,  then,  I  speak  habitually  of  the  different 
faculties  or  powers  of  the  mind.  The  reader  must  under¬ 
stand  that  I  do  not  mean  by  this  phraseology  to  imply  that 
the  mind  itself  is  divided  into  different  powers,  each  with  its 
own  peculiar  function.  But  in  order  to  study  mental 
phenomena  we  must  form  some  classification  of  them,  and 
must  analyze  them  under  different  divisions  and  sub¬ 
divisions.  When,  for  example,  we  speak  of  the  facult)'’  of 
comparison,  we  do  not  mean  that  the  mind  has  one  power 
which  compares  and  observes  the  relation  of  things,  and 
can  do  this  and  nothing  else;  but  we  mean  that  the  mind 
has  a  power  of  observing  the  relations  of  things,  and  this 
power  we  call  the  faculty  of  comparison.  In  the  same  way 
we  might  say  that  the  mouth  has  a  faculty  of  eating  and  a 
faculty  of  speaking  and  a  faculty  of  singing,  without  mean¬ 
ing  that  there  are  in  the  mouth  three  sets  of  organs,  of 
which  one  eats,  another  speaks,  and  a  third  sings. 

I  do  not  wish  to  leave  the  impression  that  the  question 
whether  the  mind  is  simple  or  complex  is  one  of  no  special 
consequence;  only  that  it  is  not  necessary  for  us  to  deter¬ 
mine  it  in  order  to  our  present  plan  of  study.  It  has  an 
important,  though  perhaps  rather  indirect,  moral  bearing. 
That  bearing  may  be  briefly  mentioned  here.  If  a  man  has 


A  PRELIMINARY  QUESTION. 


15 


a  good  ear,  but  poor  eye-sight,  we  cannot  say  that  his  facul¬ 
ties  are  either  good  or  bad ;  one  faculty  is  good,  the  other  is 
bad.  Now,  if  man  is  made  up  of  a  bundle  of  faculties,  some 
of  which  are  good  and  the  others  bad ;  if,  for  example,  his 
conscience  is  strong,  but  his  love  and  sympathy  are  weak,  we 
cannot  say  of  him  that  he  is  either  good  or  bad ;  part  of  him 
is  good  and  part  of  him  is  bad.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  he  is 
a  unit,  and  conscience  is  simply  the  man  acting  in  one  direc¬ 
tion  and  love  is  the  man  acting  in  another,  then  we  cannot 
truly  say  of  him  that  he  is  good  until  all  his  actions  are  con¬ 
formed  to  the  divine  standard.  If,  for  example,  a  carpenter 
has  a  box  of  tools  containing  a  chisel  of  soft  iron  and  very 
dull,  and  a  plane  of  finely  tempered  steel,  very  sharp,  and  we 
ask  him  what  sort  of  a  set  of  tools  he  has,  he  would  reply, 
some  of  the  tools  are  good  and  some  are  poor.  But  if  an 
apprentice  has  learned  to  drive  a  nail  without  splitting  the 
wood,  but  he  cannot  yet  saw  a  straight  line,  there  is  no  sense 
in  which  we  can  say  he  is  a  good  carpenter.  He  is  not  a 
good  carpenter  until  he  has  learned  to  do  all  carpentering 
operations  at  least  reasonably  well.  This  illustration  will 
give  a  hint  of  the  argument  for  the  simplicity  of  the  mind, 
of  which  I  spoke  above.  When  I  yield  to  my  anger  and 
speak  a  bitter  word,  I  am  conscious  that  I  have  done  wrong : 
not  that  some  thing  in  me  has  done  wrong,  but  that  the  whole 
I  has  sinned;  and  this,  perhaps,  is  what  James  means  when 
he  says  that  he  who  has  kept  the  whole  law  and  yet  offends 
in  one  point  is  guilty  of  all.  It  is  the  soul  that  sins,  not  a 
faculty  in  the  soul.  Thus  there  is  a  reason  in  our  conscious¬ 
ness  of  sin  for  believing  that  the  soul  or  mind — the  ego^  the 
I — is  a  unit,  not  complex  or  composite.  In  this  book,  however, 
in  speaking  of  mental  and  moral  action,!  shall,for  convenience’', 
sake,  speak  of  mental  faculties,  meaning  thereby  not  separate  ' 
powers,  but  separate  activities  of  the  same  power  working  in 
different  ways. 


e 


i6  ^  ^STt/Z)  F  IN  HUMAN  NA  TURE. 


CHAPTER  III. 

TRUE  AND  FALSE  MATERIALISM. 


/ 


It  is  common,  even  in  the  pulpit,  to  hear  the  phrase,  “Man 
has  a  soul ;  ”  and  it  is  scarcely  possible  to  avoid  embodying 
this  same  thought  sometimes  in  the  phrase  “man’s  soul,”  which 
is  only  an  abbreviation.  This  phrase,  however,  expresses  a 
falsehood.  It  is  not  true  that  man  has  a  soul.  Man  is  a 
soul.  It  would  be  more  accurate  to  say  that  man  has  a 
body.  We  may  say  that  the  body  has  a  soul,  or  that  the  soul 
has  a  body;  as  we  may  say  that  the  ship  has  a  captain,  or 
the  captain  has  a  ship ;  but  we  ought  never  to  forget  that  the 
true  man  is  the  mental  and  spiritual ;  the  body  is  only  the 
instrument  which  the  mental  and  the  spiritual  uses. 

Still  more  accurately,  however,  man,  as  we  see  him  and 
have  to  do  with  him  in  this  life,  is  composed,  in  Paul’s  lan¬ 
guage,  of  body,  soul,  and  spirit.  The  distinction  between 
these  three  we  must  consider  hereafter.  Here  it  must  be 
enough  to  say :  i.  That  the  body  is  purely  physical,  as  much 
'  so  as  a  tree;  that  it  is  composed  of  certain  well-known 
physical  elements,  and  subject  to  physical  laws.  2.  That  the 
mind  or  soul  (in  Latin  the  anhna^  in  Greek  the  pseuche)  is  f 
that  which  sees,  feels,  thinks,  and  that  it  is  analogous  to  that 
which  controls  the  body  in  the  animals,  though  in  man  pos- ' 
sessing  powers  vastly  superior  to  those  observed  in  any  mere^ 
animal.  3.  That  the  spirit  (in  Latin  spiritus^  in  Greek 
4  pneumd)  is  that  which  deals  with  the  invisible,  believes,  rev- 
s  erences,  distinguishes  between  right  and  wrong,  and  that 
(there  is  nothing  analogous  to  it  in  the  animal  creation.  The 
body  links  us  to  the  earth,  the  mind  to  the  animal  creatiqn_, 
the  spirit  to  God. 


TRUE  AND  FALSE  ALA  TERIALISM. 


17 


To  understand  human  nature  we  must  understand  the 
relation  which  the  mind  and  spirit,  that  is,  the  invisible 
part  of  man,  has  to  the  body,  that  is,  to  the  physical  or  ma¬ 
terial  part. 

I.  It  is  now  well  established  as  a  scientific  fact  that  every 
mental  and  moral  act  employs  some  physical  agency  and 
makes  a  draft  upon  the  physical  organization.  In  fact,  every 
mental  action  is  also  partly  a  material  and  physical  action. 
We  know,  for  instance,  that  we  see  by  means  of  a  physical 
organ,  the  eye ;  we  hear  by  means  of  a  physical  organ,  the 
ear.  The  eye  does  not,  however,  see  ;  for  if  the  nerve  which 
connects  the  eye  with  the  brain  be  cut,  though  the  picture  is 
perfectly  painted  on  the  retina  of  the  eye,  the  person  sees 
nothing.  So  the  ear  does  not  hear;  for  if  the  nerve  which 
connects  the  drum  of  the  ear  with  the  brain  be -cut,  the  per¬ 
son  hears  nothing.  The  seeing  and  the  hearing  take  place 
within  us,  and  the  eye  and  the  ear  are  only  the  physical  in¬ 
struments  by  which  they  are  facilitated.  The  eye  no  more 
sees  than  the  telescope  ;  the  ear  no  more  hears  than  the  ear 
trumpet.  But  both  are  necessary  instruments  to  seeing  and 
hearing.  For  aught  we  know,  however,  both  eye  and  ear 
may  be  destroyed  as  they  are  at  death,  and  the  power  of 
seeing  and  hearing  possessed  by  the  soul  may  be  improved, 
not  impaired,  by  the  loss  of  the  instruments. 

Now  as  the  eye  is  the  instrument  of  seeing,  and  the  ear  of 
hearing,  so  the  brain  is  the  instrument  of  thinking  and  feel¬ 
ing  and  imagining.  Every  mental  and  moral  action  em¬ 
ploys  some  portion  of  the  brain,  as  every  act  of  seeing 
employs  the  eye,  and  every  act  of  hearing  employs  the  ear. 
Not  only  that,  but  every  such  action  destroys  a  part  of  the 
brain,  and  a  new  brain  tissue  must  be  formed  to  take  its 
place.  Every  action  of  the  man,  physical,  mental,  or  moral, 
wastes  some  tissue.  The  principal  physical  function  of  life 
appears  to  be  carrying  off  this  wasted  and  exhausted  and 
now  useless  tissue  by  various  methods  of  drainage,  and  sup- 


i8 


A  STUD  y  IN  HUMAN  NA  TURK. 


plying  new  tissue  to  take  its  place  by  various  methods  of 
food  supply. 

In  all  ages  of  the  world  the  use  of  physical  organs  by  the 
mind  and  spirit  has  been  recognized,  not  only  by  the  philos¬ 
ophers,  but  also  by  the  common  people.  The  ancient  He¬ 
brews  put  the  seat  of  the  emotions  in  the  bowels;  hence  the 
phrase,  “  bowels  of  mercies,”  as  used  in  Scripture.  This  was 
probably  because  strong  emotion  affects  the  bowels.  Later, 
for  an  analogous  reason,  because  of  the  effect  of  strong  feel¬ 
ing  on  the  heart  and  circulating  system,  common  language 
fixed  upon  the  heart  as  the  seat  of  the  emotions.  This  notion 
still  lingers  in  such  phrases  as  “  a  warm-hearted  friend,”  “  a 
good-hearted  fellow.”  But  it  is  now  well  established  that  the 
real  seat  of  both  the  affections  and  the  intellect  is  in  the 
brain.  By  this  is  not  meant  that  they  are  located  in  the 
brain.  They  have  no  location;  they  are  omnipresent  in 
the  body,  as  God  is  omnipresent  in  the  universe,  equally  con¬ 
trolling  all  its  parts.  It  is  more  accurate,  therefore,  to  say 
that  it  is  now  well  established  that  the  material  or  physical 
organ  of  all  thought  and  feeling  is  in  the  brain ;  that  every 
mental  and  emotional  activity  employs  some  part  of  the 
brain  ;  that  every  such  activity  uses  up  some  brain  tissue, 
requiring,  therefore,  a  new  supply ;  and  that,  therefore,  the 
healthful  action  of  the  mind  requires  a  good  brain,  and 
the  best  action  of  the  mind  requires  good  digestion  and 
good  circulation,  since  on  these  depend  the  renewal  and  re¬ 
plenishing  of  the  brain. 

There  are  various  grounds  for  this  now  well-established 
conviction.  They  are  all  summed  up  in  the  general  statement 
that  any  disease  of  the  brain  produces  mental  and  moral 
disease,  while,  on  the  other  hand,  no  disease  which  does  not 
directly  or  indirectly  affect  the  brain,  has  any  power  to  affect 
the  mental  and  moral  sanity  of  the  patient.  Thus  a  blow 
on  the  knee  which  will  produce  excruciating  pain  will  leave 
the  mind  clear,  while  a  blow  on  the  brain  will  produce  un- 


TRUE  AND  FALSE  MATERIALISM. 


19 


consciousness.  A  gastric  fever  does  not  materially  alter  the 
apparent  moral  condition  of  the  sick  man,  at  least  not  more 
than  might  be  expected  from  the  effect  on  the  brain  of  so  seri¬ 
ous  a  disease  in  the  organ  on  which  it  depends  for  its  supply. 
But  a  brain  fever  makes  the  patient  delirious,  and  sometimes 
changes  entirely  his  apparent  intelligent  and  moral  character. 
Thus  I  have  known  of  the  case  of  a  young  man,  of  most  ex¬ 
emplary  character,  who  was  almost  morbidly  sensitive  to  any 
word  or  phrase  of  an  indelicate  or  coarse  description,  who, 
being  taken  with  brain  fever,  was  so  blasphemous  and  ob¬ 
scene  that  it  was  impossible  for  any  female  attendant  to 
remain  in  the  room  with  him.  It  was  clear  that  the  disease 
was  physical,  not  moral ;  it  was  a  disease,  not  in  the  mind  or 
spirit,  but  in  the  organ  which  they  employed.  The  difference 
may  be  compared  to  that  which  would  occur ,  if  a  Rubin¬ 
stein  should  sit  down  to  play  upon  an  old  and  out-of-tune 
piano.  The  discords  would  be  due  to  the  instrument,  not  to 
the  player. 

If  the  brain  is  impaired  the  mind  is  invariably  affected  ;  if, 
on  the  other  hand,  the  brain  is  uninjured,  the  mental  and 
moral  powers  will  remain  unaffected,  though  the  rest  of  the 
body  may  be  to  all  intents  and  purposes  well-nigh  dead.  It 
is  true  that  the  brain  is  so  closely  connected  with  the  nervous 
system,  which  pervades  the  whole  body,  that  any  thing  which 
impairs  the  nerves  of  the  body  impairs  the  brain,  and  there¬ 
fore  affects  the  mind ;  but  the  general  principle,  that  every 
other  part  of  the  body  may  be  weakened  and  the  mind  be 
left  comparatively  unimpaired,  provided  the  brain  is  uninjured^ 
has  had  many  striking  illustrations  in  the  history  of  great 
mental  work  achieved  by  chronic  invalids.  A  very  striking 
illustration  of  this  is  afforded  by  the  extraordinary  story  of 
John  Carter.  At  the  age  of  twenty-one  he  fell  from  the 
branch  of  a  tree,  forty  feet  in  height,  and  was  taken  up  un¬ 
conscious.  Examination  showed  a  severe  injury  to  the  spinal 
column,  effectually  disconnecting  the  brain  from  the  rest  of 


20 


A  STUD  Y  IN  HUMAN  NA  TURE. 


the  nervous  system,  and  depriving  the  body  of  all  power  of 
motion  from  the  neck  downward.  He  soon  recovered  con¬ 
sciousness,  but  never  moved  a  limb  again.  But  his  brain, 
and  with  it  the  powers  of  his  mind  and  spirit,  were  unim¬ 
paired.  From  being  ungodly  and  ignorant,  he  became  both 
devout  and  intelligent,  a  great  reader,  and  soon  learned  to 
write,  to  draw,  and  even  to  paint,  holding  the  pencil  or  the 
camel’s  hair  brush  between  his  teeth,  enlarging  or  reducing 
the  copies  before  him  with  great  artistic  skill  and  perfect 
success.  He  lived  in  this  condition  for  fourteen  years,  his 
whole  body  from  the  neck  downward  being  paralyzed  and 
helpless,  while  his  mind  and  spirit  were  not  only  uninjured, 
but  grew  brighter  and  clearer  to  the  end.  It  was  evident 
that  the  accident  which  had  left  only  the  head  uninjured  had 
left  all  the  organs  of  thought  and  feeling  uninjured.'^ 

It  is  now,  then,  well  established  as  an  undoubted  scientific 
fact  that  the  mind  or  soul  acts  through  organs ;  that  these 
organs  are  in  and  form  a  part  of  the  brain  ;  that  their  healthy 
action  depends  upon  the  healthy  condition  of  the  organ,  that 
is,  of  the  brain  ;  that  any  thing  which  impairs  the  health  of  the 
brain  impairs  the  healthful  action  of  the  mind  or  soul,  though 
how  it  affects  the  mind  or  soul  itself  we  cannot  say ;  that  what 
we  call  mental  diseases  are  often  diseases  of  the  organ ;  that 
the  remedy  for  what  appears  to  be  an  imperfect  or  evil  ac¬ 
tion  of  the  mind  or  soul  must  sometimes  be  applied  to  the 
organ,  that  is,  it  must  be  physical  rather  than  mental  or 
moral ;  and  that  whoever  has  to  do  with  the  training,  educa¬ 
tion,  or  development  of  men,  has  a  need  to  study  the  relations 
of  the  mind  to  its  organs,  and  to  ascertain,  as  far  as  possible, 
what  diseases  and  what  hinderances  to  development  are 
mental  and  moral,  and  what  are  material  or  physical ;  and, 
finally,  that  he  who  would  attain  the  highest  degree  of  man¬ 
hood  must  study,  not  only  to  improve  his  soul  and  spirit  by 

*  See  an  interesting  monograph,  “  The  Life  of  John  Carter,”  by  F.  J.  Mills.  Hurd  & 
Houghton,  1868. 


TRUE  AND  FALSE  MATERIALISM. 


21 


intellectual  and  spiritual  processes,  but  also  to  care  for  and 
nourish  properly  his  brain,  that  is,  the  organ  of  his  mind, 
soul,  and  spirit.  A  healthy  man  is  sana  mens  in  sana  corpore., 
a  healthy  mind  in  a  healthy  body.  Well-being  requires 
healthy  organs  as  well  as  a  healthy  mind  to  use  them.  The 
physician  needs  often  to  inquire  into  the  condition  of  the 
mind  in  order  to  prescribe  intelligently  for  the  body.  The 
minister  needs  often  to  inquire  into  the  condition  of  the 
body  in  order  to  prescribe  intelligently  for  the  mind  and  the 
spirit.  A  sleepy  congregation  is  oftener  the  sexton’s  fault 
than  the  preacher’s.  Depression  of  spirits  may  be  due  to 
remorse ;  it  may  be  due  to  a  poor  digestion  or  a  diseased 
liver.  Remedy  for  apparent  sin  may  be  Bible  and  prayer; 
it  may  be  less  food  and  a  run  in  the  open  air.  The  teacher, 
the  parent,  the  preacher,  needs  to  study  with  care  the  condi¬ 
tion  of  the  body  in  order  to  deal  wisely  and  well  with  the 
intellectual  and  the  moral  condition  of  those  intrusted  to 
their  charge.  Moral  reformation  and  material  reformation 
must  go  together.  It  is  almost  hopeless  to  promote  temper¬ 
ance  and  godliness  in  our  great  cities  so  long  as  the  popula¬ 
tion  live  in  some  wards  with  more  persons  to  the  square  foot 
than  are  allowed  in  the  average  cemetery.  The  best  preven¬ 
tion  of  crime  is  often  a  change  of  air,  food,  and  other  physical 
conditions.  The  great  majority  of  street  boys,  if  left  in  New 
York  city,  grow  up  to  swell  the  number  of  the  criminal 
classes.  But  last  year  the  “  Christian  Union  ”  sent  out  to 
Minnesota,  through  the  Children’s  Aid  Society,  some  one 
hundred  and  twenty-five  children.  Of  these,  all  but  five  are 
doing  well ;  that  is,  they  are  making  good,  industrious  citi¬ 
zens.  Much  is  due  to  a  change  in  moral  and  intellectual 
circumstances,  but  something  is  also  due  to  a  change  in 
physical  circumstances. 

Modern  science  has  gone  further  in  its  investigation.  It 
is  beginning  to  learn  that  different  parts  of  the  brain  perform 
different  functions.  It  is  now  well  settled  that  the  organs  of 


22 


A  STUD  Y  IN  HUMAN  NA  TURE. 


sense,  of  intellect,  of  feeling  or  emotion,  and  of  will,  are  not 
the  same.  But  these  investigations  are  not  yet  completed, 
and  it  is  not  necessary  for  our  purpose  in  this  little  treatise 
to  enter  upon  this  branch  of  the  subject. 

It  is  necessary,  however,  before  closing  this  chapter,  to  note 
the  difference  between  the  doctrine  that  the  mind  acts 
through  organs,  and  is  therefore  dependent  for  its  practical 
results  upon  the  health  of  the  organ,  and  the  doctrine  that 
there  is  no  mind,  but  that  which  we  call  mental  and  moral 
action — thought,  feeling,  and  will — are  the  effects  of  material 
changes  taking  place  within  the  body.  This  doctrine  goes 
by  the  name  of  materialism.  Among  the  ancients  there  was 
a  class  of  philosophers  who  taught  that  God  did  not  create 
the  world,  but  the  world  created  God ;  that  is,  they  held 
that  matter  is  eternal,  and  that  spirit  was  evolved  out  of  mat¬ 
ter.  Analogous  to  this  is  the  doctrine  of  modern  material¬ 
ism  ;  the  doctrine  that  the  body  is  not  the  instrument  which 
the  mind  or  soul  uses,  but  the  machine  whose  action  pro¬ 
duces  the  mind  or  soul,  somewhat  as  the  friction  between  the 
grindstone  and  the  scythe  produces  sparks.  It  is  unquestion¬ 
ably  true  that  every  mental  and  moral  action  is  accompanied 
with  a  change  in  the  brain.  The  materialist,  observing  this, 
has  jumped  to  the  conclusion  that  the  change  in  the  brain 
produces  the  mental  and  moral  activity.  This  is  a  long 
jump. 

1.  In  the  first  place  there  is  no  evidence  whatever  to  war¬ 
rant  this  conclusion.  It  is  as  if  a  boy  seeing  an  organist 
playing  on  an  organ  should  conclude  that  the  keys  of  the 
organ  moved  the  fingers  of  the  player.  We  do  know  that 
the  mental  and  the  brain  actions  are  contemporaneous  and 
concomitant ;  but  this  gives  us  no  reason  to  suppose  that  the 
brain  action  produces  the  mental  action,  or  that  the  mental 
action  produces  the  brain  action.  Which  is  the  cause  and 
which  the  effect  we  must  learn  in  another  way. 

2.  If  the  organist  were  an  automaton,  the  boy  would  be  left 


TRUE  AND  FALSE  MATERIALISM. 


23 


in  doubt  whether  the  machinery  which  moved  the  organ  was 
in  the  organ  or  in  the  man.  Unless  he  could  take  one  or 
the  other  to  pieces,  he  could  not  tell  which  was  the  agent 
and  which  the  instrument ;  which  acted,  and  which  was  acted 
upon.  Now  we  cannot  look  within  our  neighbor  to  see 
whether  the  brain  moves  the  mind  or  the  mind  the  brain ; 
but  we  can  look  inside  ourselves  and  see  which  moves  first. 
We  do  this  by  self-consciousness.  And  this  assures  us  that 
the  mind  operates  first,  and  the  brain  and  nervous  system 
afterward.  The  artist  is  conscious  that  he  forms  in  his  mind 
a  picture  before  his  hand  begins  to  put  it  upon  canvas.  We 
know  that  we  will  to  reach  out  our  hand  or  stretch  forth  our 
foot  before  we  move  the  organ.  Walking  does  not  make  us 
desire  to  go ;  the  desire  to  go  makes  us  walk.  So  far  as  we  can 
trace  mental  and  moral  action  at  all  within  ourselves,  it  is 
clear  that  first  comes  the  desire,  then  the  will,  then  the  action. 
It  is  very  evident  that  the  visible  organs,  that  is,  the  eye  and 
hand  and  ear,  are  the  servants,  not  the  masters ;  there  is  no 
reason  whatever  to  suppose  that  the  invisible  organs,  that  is, 
the  brain  organs,  are  the  masters,  not  the  servants. 

3.  If  the  organ  produces  the  activity,  if  the  brain  secrets 
thought  and  feeling  as  the  liver  secrets  bile,  as  has  been 
claimed  by  the  materialist,  there  is  no  such  thing  as  right 
and  wrong.  Man  is  a  mere  physical  machine.  His  thought 
and  feeling  and  will  have  no  more  moral  character  than  the 
sparks  of  an  electrical  machine.  Garfield  was  simply  a  good 
and  useful  machine  ;  Guiteau  was  simply  a  bad  and  danger¬ 
ous  machine.  It  is  true  that  even  on  this  theory  we  might 
still  continue  to  put  the  good  machine  where.it  would  do  the 
most  good,  and  destroy  the  bad  one ;  we  might  elect  a  Gar¬ 
field  to  the  presidency  much  as  we  would  put  a  good  time¬ 
keeper  on  the  mantle-piece,  and  destroy  a  Guiteau,  much  as 
we  would  knock  to  pieces  an  infernal  machine.  But  we 
could  no  longer  approve  the  one  and  condemn  the  other;  and 
in  fact  materialists  do  either  actually  deny  that  there  is  any 


24 


A  STUD  Y  IN'  HUMAN  NA  TURK. 


such  thing  as  virtue  and  vice,  or  make  very  little  of  the  dis¬ 
tinction  between  the  two.  But  no  philosophy  of  man  can  be 
true  which  denies  the  most  fundamental  fact  in  human  ex¬ 
perience,  the  fact  of  oughtness,  a  distinction  between  right 
and  wrong,  the  sense  inherent  in  all  men  that  some  things 
are  right,  honorable,  praiseworthy,  and  that  other  things  are 
wrong,  dishonorable,  worthy  of  condemnation  and  punish¬ 
ment.  The  family,  society,  citizenship,  are  all  built  on  the 
recognition  of  this  fundamental  fact  which  materialists  either 
deny  or  ignore. 

4.  If  the  organ  produces  the  action  there  is  no  reason  to 
suppose  that  the  action  will  survive  the  organ  ;  if  the  brain 
feels,  thinks,  reasons,  wills,  when  the  brain  crumbles  into 
dust  the  thinking,  reasoning,  feeling,  willing,  will  cease. 
When  the  fuel  is  burned  out  the  fire  will  cease ;  when  the 
battery  is  exhausted  the  electrical  current  will  cease.  Ac¬ 
cording  to  materialism  the  brain  is  a  fire,  and  all  mental  and 
moral  phenomena  are  only  the  heat  it  gives  out ;  the  brain  is 
a  galvanic  battery,  and  all  thought  and  feeling  are  only  the 
electric  current  which  it  produces.  Now  we  have  nothing  to 
do  here  with  the  morality  of  this  doctrine ;  we  are  not  con¬ 
sidering  its  moral  effect,  but  its  reasonableness.  A  doctrine 
which  has  nothing  whatever  to  support  it,  and  has  against  it 
the  almost  universal  instincts  of  mankind,  is  not  reasonable. 
And  the  instinct  of  immortality  is  the  almost  universal  in¬ 
stinct  of  mankind.  We  feel  our  immortality  before  we  pass 
from  the  body,  much  as  the  bird  feels  conscious  of  the  power 
of  flight  before  it  is  fledged,  or  has  attempted  to  leave  the 
nest.  We  are  conscious  of  something  within  which  is  imper¬ 
ishable.  But  if  the  organ  produces  the  action,  there  is  no 
such  imperishable  power  within  ;  the  pains  of  remorse  do  not 
differ  from  the  pains  of  dyspepsia,  nor  the  joys  of  love  from 
those  of  appetite.  No  one  can  really  believe  this ;  no  one 
acts  as  though  he  did,  not  even  those  philosophers  who  im¬ 
agine  that  they  believe  it. 


TRUE  AND  FALSE  MATERIALISM. 


25 


5.  Finally,  if  the  organ  produces  the  action,  then  there  is 
no  personality.  There  is  no  I  that  thinks,  reasons,  feels, 
acts ;  there  is  only  a  succession  of  nerve  phenomena  which 
we  call  thinking,  reasoning,  feeling,  acting.  If  the  brain  is 
a  kind  of  galvanic  battery,  and  feeling  and  thinking  are  the 
sparks,  then  I  am  only  the  succession  of  sparks.  This  has 
been  seen  and  acknowledged  by  the  materialists  themselves. 
Thus  Hume,  declaring  that  there  is  no  such  principle  as  self 
in  one,  goes  on  to  affirm  of  mankind  that  “  they  are  nothing 
but  a  bundle  or  collection  of  different  perceptions  which 
succeed  one  another  with  inconceivable  rapidity,  and  are  in 
a  perpetual  flux  and  movement.”  This  is  the  logical  conclu¬ 
sion  of  materialism,  or  the  doctrine  that  the  organ  moves  the 
organist,  not  the  organist  the  organ ;  and  it  arouses  against 
itself  the  instant  testimony  of  our  own  consciousness.  If 
there  is  any  thing  that  we  know.,  absolutely  and  positively,  it 
is  that  we  exist ;  that  there  is  an  I  which  perceives,  feels, 
reasons,  wills,  and  that  is  as  separate  and  distinct  from  the 
arere  succession  of  perceiving,  feeling,  reasoning,  and  willing? 
4s  the  player  is  from  the  succession  of  notes  which  he  pro¬ 
duces  on  the  organ.  That  there  is  both  an  I  and  a  not  I  is 
perfectly  clear  to  every  one  of  us.  The  doctrine  that  there 
is  no  I,  no  self,  no  personal  identity,  can  never  make  any 
greater  progress  among  mankind  as  a  practical  doctrine  than 
the  doctrine  of  Berkley,  that  there  is  no  external  world,  and 
that  instead  of  real  objects  which  we  think  we  see,  hear, 
touch,  taste,  and  smell,  there  is  only  a  succession  of  impres¬ 
sions,  a  seeing,  hearing,  touching,  tasting,  smelling;  that  we 
are  all  living  in  a  dream,  some  in  a  delightful  one,  others  in 
a  nightmare  ;  that  life  is  only  a  kind  of  phantasmagoria.  The 
one  philosopher  denies  that  there  is  any  thing  not  I ;  I  is  all 
there  is.  The  other  denies  that  there  is  any  I  ;  what  seems 
to  be  so  is  only  a  succession  of  physical  forces.  It  is  doubt¬ 
ful  whether  any  man  really  believes  either  of  these  notions. 
And  it  has  been  necessary  to  point  out  the  absurdities  in- 
2 


26 


A  STUD  y  IN  HUMAN  NA  TURK, 


volved  in  the  doctrine  of  materialism  only  in  order  to  make 
perfectly  clear  to  the  reader  the  distinction  between  true  and 
false  materialism.  The  true  materialism  teaches  that  the  mind 
and  spirit  act  always  in  this  life  through  organs,  and  that 
healthy  mental  and  moral  action  depends  upon  healthy 
^organs.  This  is  established  by  a  variety  of  physical  experi¬ 
ments,  and  is  now  undisputed.  The  false  materialism  teaches 
that  the  material  organism  produces  all  mental  and  moral 
phenomena;  and  it  is  without  any  evidence  whatever  to  sup¬ 
port  it,  is  a  purely  abstract  notion,  and  is  contradicted  by  our 
consciousness  of  our  own  actions,  by  our  inward  sense  of  the 
distinction  between  right  and  wrong,  by  our  instinct  of  im¬ 
mortally  and  by  our  certainty  of  personal  existence  and 
identity. 


THE  TEMPERAMENTS. 


27 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  TEMPERAMENTS. 

From  a  very  early  age  physiologists  have  recognized  a 
characteristic  difference  between  persons  possessing  the  same 
organs,  and  yet  manifestly  possessing  different  qualities. 
These  characteristic  differences  have  been  called  tempera¬ 
ments.  How  far  they  are  physical,  how  far  mental,  is  a  ques¬ 
tion  not  necessary  here  to  discuss ;  certainly  it  has  not  been 
determined.  But  that  they  are  partly  physical  is  unquestion¬ 
able.  Various  classifications  have  been  suggested  of  these 
temperaments,  no  one  of  which  is  altogether  satisfactory  ;  but 
there  is,  perhaps,  none  better  than  the  one  which  is  at  once 
the  simplest,  the  most  common,  and  very  ancient,  into  the 
nervous,  the  sanguine,  the  bilious,  and  the  lymphatic.  In 
the  person  of  nervous  temperament  the  nervous  organism  is 
the  predominant  one  ;  usually  the  head  is  large  and  finely 
formed,  the  skin  fair,  the  complexion  light,  the  hair  fine  and 
generally  dark.  Any  one  of  these  signs,  however,  may  be 
wanting,  and  the  person  still  possess  a  highly  organized  and 
delicate  nervous  system.  A  more  certain  indication  of  it  is 
sensitiveness  to  impressions,  both  physical  and  mental,  subtle 
and  readily  responsive  sympathy,  and  quickness  and  alert¬ 
ness  of  action  both  in  mind  and  body.  The  person  of  ner¬ 
vous  organization  is  also  often  able  to  sustain  an  amount  of 
labor  or  suffering  far  beyond  what  would  be  anticipated  of 
him  from  his  general  physical  condition,  but  always  at  the 
hazard  of  a  sudden  and  sometimes  an  irretrievable  collapse, 
following  the  expenditure  of  nervous  force,  not  adequately 
kept  up  by  other  organs.  Such  a  person  is  also  liable  to 
great  fluctuation  of  feeling — both  exaltation  and  depression, 


28 


A  STUD  Y  IN  HUMAN  NA  TURK. 


dependent  on  the  condition  of  the  nervous  system,  and  some¬ 
times  upon  slight  external  circumstances  acting  upon  it,  as 
the  weather,  food,  or  drink,  or  even  social  sympathy,  or  the 
lack  of  it.  In  the  person  of  sanguine  temperament  the  blood 
currents  are  rich  and  strong ;  the  whole  nature  is  therefore 
well  fed ;  the  nervous  system,  whatever  its  capacity,  is  habit¬ 
ually  at  its  best.  Such  a  person  has  usually  a  rich  color,  often 
red  or  reddish  hair,  generally  a  light  eye,  and  a  bounding 
motion.  A  surer  indication  is  vigor  in  action  and  hopefulness 
in  feeling.  To  act  is  a  pleasure  to  the  sanguine;  idleness  is 
a  vice  which  he  cannot  understand ;  weariness  a  weakness 
with  which  he  has  not  easily  any  sympathy.  And  as  it  is  a 
delight  to  cope  with  difficulties,  they  have  no  terror  for 
him,  and  he  carries  into  every  exigency  a  hopeful  spirit.  He 
scarcely  knows  the  meaning  of  despair.  The  reader  will 
find  a  fuller  description  of  this  temperament  in  Campbell’s 
immortal  verse,  which  may  serve  a  better  purpose  than 
a  more  scientific  description  would  do.  The  bilious  tem¬ 
perament  is  the  reverse  of  the  sanguine,  and  is,  indeed, 
rather  the  product  of  a  disease  than  of  the  predominant  ac¬ 
tivity  of  a  healthy  organ.  Physiologists  are  not  agreed  among 
themselves  as  to  the  function  of  the  liver  or  the  effect  or 
object  of  bile,  but  unquestionably  one  of  the  chief  functions 
of  the  liver  is  to  eliminate  from  the  system  the  waste,  that  is, 
the  dead  tissues  after  they  have  served  their  purpose,  and 
bile  is  at  least  in  part  an  excretion  of  materials  which  are 
decomposing  and  ready  to  be  removed  from  the  system. 
When  the  liver  fails  to  do  its  work  properly,  and  these  mate¬ 
rials  are  not  removed,  but  remain  in  the  blood  to  circulate 
again  through  the  system,  which  they  cannot  feed  any  more 
than  the  ashes  of  a  burnt  coal  can  feed  the  fire,  the  man  is 
said  to  be  bilious ;  when  they  exist  in  the  system  to  a  large 
degree  he  is  poisoned,  and  if  the  poison  cannot  be  removed 
he  is  certain  to  die.  When  as  a  habit  of  the  body,  very  apt 
to  be  produced  by  sedentary  habits,  or  excessive  or  unwise 


THE  TEMPERAMENTS. 


29 


food,  the  liver  thus  fails  to  eliminate  from  the  circulation 
matter  which  should  be  removed,  the  power  of  activity  of 
every  kind  becomes  impaired,  exertion  is  difficult,  thought  is 
slow,  the  head  is  dull  and  stupid,  small  difficulties  grow  seri¬ 
ous  to  the  imagination,  and  the  whole  mood  becomes  both 
inert  and  melancholy.  A  person  of  this  temperament  is  or¬ 
dinarily  of  a  sallow  complexion,  of  dark  hair,  sluggish  in 
action,  and  depressed  in  spirits.  The  lymphatics  also  share 
in  the  work  of  removing  the  effete  tissues  from  the  system. 
When  they  fail  to  fulfill  this  function,  the  waste  material  re¬ 
mains  in  the  system,  not,  however,  in  the  blood,  but  in  the 
tissues.  These  add  nothing  to  the  real  vigor  of  the  man, 
because  they  are  an  addition  of  valueless  and  really  dead 
tissue.  Such  a  man  is  loaded  down  like  a  locomotive  which 
should  be  compelled  to  carry  in  the  tender  its  own  ashes. 
He  is  likely  to  be  obese,  though  not  necessarily  offensively 
so ;  he  is  certain  to  be  sluggish  and  good-natured ;  not  quick 
to  take  offense,  because  not  quick  to  action  of  any  kind; 
habitually  content ;  rarely  or  never  giving  himself  to  work 
spontaneously,  but  only  under  the  pressure  of  some  motive, 
and  always  glad  to  relax  his  work  and  drop  into  idleness 
again.  In  fiction,  the  fat  boy  in  Dickens’s  “  Pickwick  Papers” 
is  a  travesty  on  the  lymphatic  temperament.  Mr.  Bain  has 
suggested  that  to  this  ancient  classification  of  temperaments 
should  be  added  the  muscular  temperament,  in  which  the 
muscular  system  predominates,  in  which  physical  action  is 
enjoyed  for  its  own  sake,  which  creates  a  love  for  field  sports 
and  athletics  of  all  kinds,  and  of  which  probably  the  Roman 
and  Grecian  gladiator  might  be  regarded  as  extreme  types. 

I  have  necessarily  spoken  of  each  of  these  temperaments 
as  distinct  from  every  other ;  in  fact,  all  temperaments  are  a 
combination.  In  every  man  something  is  contributed  by  the 
nerves,  the  blood,  the  liver,  the  lymphatics,  and  the  muscles ; 
no  two  men  were  ever  composed  in  the  same  way ;  the  vari¬ 
ations  are  endless.  Frequent  combinations  are  the  nervous- 


30 


A  STUDY  IN  HUMAN  NATURE, 


sanguine,  the  nervous-bilious,  the  nervous-muscular,  the 
lymphatic-sanguine,  the  lymphatic-bilious,  and  the  muscular- 
sanguine.  As  active  exercise  is  the  best  method  of  keeping 
the  body  free  from  its  own  degenerate  and  wasted  tissues, 
and  assuring  their  elimination  from  the  system,  the  muscular 
is  rarely  found  in  combination  with  either  the  lymphatic  or 
the  bilious,  and  for  the  same  reason  the  bilious  is  rarely 
found  in  combination  with  the  sanguine,  since  the  life  cur¬ 
rents  can  never  be  vigorous  and  healthy  when  the  body  is 
choked  with  its  own  waste.  It  is,  however,  certain  that  in 
any  estimate  of  human  nature,  and  in  any  study  of  the  indi¬ 
vidual,  the  student  must  bear  in  mind  the  effect  which  the 
predominance  of  these  temperaments  or  their  combination — 
the  nervous,  the  sanguine,  the  bilious,  the  lymphatic,  and  the 
muscular — may  have  upon  mental  and  moral  activity. 


AJVAL  VS/S  OF  HUMAN  NA  TURE. 


31 


CHAPTER  V. 

ANALYSIS  OF  HUMAN  NATURE. 

We  are  now  prepared  to  enter  upon  an  analysis  of  human 
nature.  In  doing  so,  however,  I  must  first  again  remind  my 
readers  of  the  object  of  this  treatise,  and  of  the  fundamental 
principles  already  laid  down. 

1.  The  object  of  this  treatise  is  not  to  afford  an  anatomical 
chart  of  the  human  mind.  It  is  not  to  explain  what  are  the 
powers  or  faculties  of  which  the  human  soul  is  composed. 
Whether  the  mind  is  simple  or  compound  is  not  the  question 
here  ;  for  myself,  I  regard  it  as  simple ;  not  as,  in  strictness 
of  speech,  composed  of  different  faculties  at  all,  but  only  as 
acting  in  different  modes,  and  to  a  greater  or  less  extent 
through  different  organs.  The  analysis  here  suggested  is 
not  even  a  description  of  the  constituent  parts  of  the  mind. 
It  is  not  asserted,  nor  even  assumed,  that  the  mind  has  differ¬ 
ent  parts.  It  is  simply  an  analysis  for  the  convenience  of 
classifying  the  various  mental  phenomena.  The  same  mind 
hears  and  sees ;  but  hearing  and  seeing  are  not  the  same. 
So  the  same  mind  reasons,  imagines,  remembers  ;  but  reason¬ 
ing,  imagining,  and  remembering  are  not  the  same.  Though 
for  convenience  I  use  the  term  faculty  in  this  classification, 
the  classification  is  simply  suggested  for  the  better  and  more 
orderly  arrangement,  and  more  satisfactory  study  of  mental 
activities  as  actually  seen  in  real  life  and  living  characters. 

2.  It  is  not,  therefore,  necessary  for  us  to  consider  whether 
the  powers  or  faculties  here  mentioned  are  original  and  sim¬ 
ple  powers  of  the  mind  or  not.  They  are  not  suggested  as 
original  and  simple  powers  of  the  mind.  In  some  instances 
they  clearly  are  not.  Mr.  Bain  has  shown,  I  think,  very 


32 


A  STUD  Y  IN  HUMAN  NA  TURK. 


clearly,  that  combativeness  and  destructiveness  may  be  traced 
to  a  love  of  power;  that  they  are  mainly,  if  not  wholly,  man¬ 
ifestations  of  a  love  of  power.  “  The  feeling  of  power  essen¬ 
tially  implies  comparison,  and  no  comparison  is  so  effective 
and  so  startling  as  that  between  victor  and  vanquished.  The 
chuckle  and  glee  of  satisfaction  at  discomfiting  an  opponent, 
no  matter  by  what  weapons,  are  understood  wherever  the 
human  race  has  spread,  and  are  not  wanting  to  the  superior 
animals.”  This  is  true.  Nevertheless,  the  manifestations  of 
the  love  of  power  are  so  various,  that  for  purposes  of  classi¬ 
fication  it  is  convenient  to  put  by  themselves  those  which  are 
exhibited  in  combat  and  destruction.  Something  of  the 
same  fundamental  motives  may  underlie  the  constructive 
work  of  Stevenson  and  the  destructive  work  of  Von  Moltke, 
but  in  the  study  of  human  nature  these  different  man¬ 
ifestations  need  to  be  classified  under  different  titles.  So 
again,  it  may  be  true,  that  ^quisitiveness  is  not  an  original 
instinct,  but  is  simply  the  rational  endeavor  of  man  to  obtain 
the  advantages  supposed  to  be  conferred  by  w;ealth,  and  to 
avoid  the  evils  produced  by  poverty ;  though  this  theory 
hardly  accounts  for  the  blindness  of  covetousness  and  the 
^If-imposed  wretchedness  of  the  miser.  But  whether  it  is 
true  or  not,  it  aids  in  the  study  of  life  to  recognize  acquisi¬ 
tiveness  as  though  it  was  an  original  and  simple  instinct,  and 
to  place  under  it  certain  common  phenomena  of  modern 
commercial  life. 

3.  For  the  same  reason  this  classification  is  not,  and  no 
such  classification  can  be,  perfect.  It  is  like  an  index  to  a 
book ;  there  must  be  some  cross  references.  It  is  like  a  set 
of  pigeon-holes  or  envelopes  in  which  the  student  places  his 
memoranda  and  his  scraps ;  some  of  them  he  is  puzzled  where 
to  put,  for  they  belong  in  two  or  three  separate  compart¬ 
ments,  and  might  go  with  about  equal  propriety  in  either  one. 
The  student,  therefore,  must  not  take  this  classification  as 
though  it  were  a  topographical  map  of  the  human  mind ;  a 


AJVAL  VS/S  OF  HUMAN  NA  TURK. 


33 


picture  of  what  the  mind  is,  though  possibly  to  be  improved 
and  corrected  by  future  explorations  and  surveys.  He  must 
take  it  as  a  suggested  Index  Rerum^  for  the  better  arrangement 
of  mental  and  moral  phenomena.  If  he  observes  mental  and 
moral  phenomena,  which  he  cannot  find  a  place  for  in  the 
tabular  view  here  suggested,  he  must  enlarge  it ;  or,  if  he 
finds  it  easier  to  arrange  phenomena  here  divided  into  two  or 
three  compartments  under  one,  he  is  at  liberty  to  omit  whatever 
seem  to  him  superfluous  titles.  The  main  thing  for  every 
reader  of  this  little  treatise  is  to  study  human  nature — in  life, 
in  fiction,  in  history — for  himself,  and  use  this  analysis  just  in 
so  far  as  it  aids  him  in  that  independent  and  original  study, 
and  no  further. 

4.  It  is  further  to  be  remembered  that  even  if  the  mental 
and  moral  powers  be  regarded  as  real  and  separable  powers 
of  the  mind,  they  certainly  do  not  act  independently  of  each 
other.  We  sometimes  hear  it  said  of  a  man,  in  criticism  of 
him,  that  he  acted  from  mixed  motives.  Every  man  always 
acts  from  mixed  motives.  His  clashing  desires  act  upon  each 
other,  and  his  action  is  the  result  not  of  any  one  impulse,  but 
of  several  impulses  of  unequal  force  combining  together. 
Man  may  be  compared  to  a  croquet  ball  upon  the  lawn ;  the 
principal  motive  to  the  mallet  which  gives  him  a  first  direc¬ 
tion  ;  but  the  unevenness  of  the  ground  and  the  other  balls 
give  new  and  different  directions  to  his  activity,  and  the  final 
direction  which  he  takes  is  the  sum  of  all  their  influences. 
Only  the  more  confirmed  and  inveterate  miser  acts  under  the 
impulse  of  acquisitiveness  alone.  In  nearly  all  men  it  is 
variously  modified  by  self-esteem,  approbativeness,  conscien¬ 
tiousness,  combativeness  and  destructiveness,  benevolence  ; 
and  the  conduct  of  life  is  in  no  two  men  exactly  the  same, 
because  in  no  two  men  is  the  sum  of  their  various  impulses 
the  same.  In  unriddling  man  the  student  must  take  account 
of  all  these  various  and  often  antagonistic  forces  within  him. 
Thus,  for  example,  when  Adam  Bede  saw  Hetty  and  Captain 


34 


A  STUD  Y  IN  HUMAN  NA  TURE. 


Dormithorne  kiss  and  part  in  the  woods,  he  is  described  as 
being  in  a  tumult  of  contending  emotions.  If  we  may  turn 
the  drama  into  cold  analytical  psychology,  we  might  say  that 
his  amativeness  or  love  for  Hetty,  and  his  self-esteem  or 
wounded  self-love,  both  of  which  were  strong  passions  in 
him,  impelled  him  to  punish  Hetty’s  unconscious  enemy  and 
his  own,  while  reverence  for  one  socially  so  much  his  supe¬ 
rior  held  him  in  check,  and  conscience  bade  him  rebuke 
but  not  revenge.  When  at  last  he  gave  way,  and  struck  the 
blow  which  stretched  Captain  Dormithorne  senseless,  it  was 
because  for  the  moment  amativeness  and  self-esteem  proved 
too  strong  for  reverence  and  conscience;  when  he  stopped  to 
lift  up  his  prostrate  foe,  restore  him  to  consciousness,  and 
bring  him  to  his  home,  it  was  because  conscience,  rever¬ 
ence,  and  benevolence — the  latter  aroused  to  pity  by  the 
helplessness  of  his  enemy — re-asserted  their  sovereignty  once 
more.  Thus  no  action  in  life  can  be  attributed  to  any  one 
faculty.  Nearly  every  action  is  the  result  of  composite 
forces, 

5.  Especially  is  it  important  to  bear  in  mind  that  the 
lower  faculties  are  affected  and  often  revolutionized  in  their 
activities  by  the  higher  faculties.  No  faculty  is  sinful,  and 
no  faculty  is  free  from  the  possibility  of  sin ;  it  is  the  office 
of  religion  to  make  the  spiritual  dominate  the  animal  and  the 
social  nature  ;  such  domination  changes  radically  every  activ¬ 
ity.  Thus  the  animal  appetites,  if  left  unregulated,  lead  to 
the  grossest  gluttony;  to  excesses  so  bestial  that  we  shudder 
at  the  mere  recital  of  them.  But  those  same  appetites,  re¬ 
strained  by  conscience  and  guided  by  reason,  become  the 
instruments  for  building  up  the  body  in  physical  health  and 
strength,  and  making  all  its  organs  fit  instruments  for  the 
mind  and  soul.  The  sexual  instinct  left  to  itself  runs  riot  in 
all  horrible  forms  of  sensuality  and  lust.  But  purified  by 
faith,  regulated  by  conscience  and  reason,  and  mated  to  love, 
it  becomes  the  most  sacred  of  all  earthly  ties,  and  the  foun- 


AJVAL  VS/S  OF  HUMAN  NA  TURE. 


35 


dation  of  the  most  sacred  and  essential  of  all  earthly  institu¬ 
tions — the  family.  Whether  acquisitiveness  becomes  an 
incentive  to  plundering  greed,  or  productive  industry; 
whether  combativeness  and  destructiveness  become  incen¬ 
tives  to  pillage  and  war,  or  simply  the  supports  to  a  great 
Protestant  Reformation  or  a  great  war  of  Emancipation  ; 
whether  caution  makes  its  possessor  a  coward  and  an  apos¬ 
tate,  or  the  wise  and  courageous  defender  of  sacred  interests 
intrusted  to  him  ;  whether  his  self-esteem  makes  him  a 
haughty  Gregory  the  Great,  or  an  unbendable  William  the 
Silent,  depends  upon  the  presence  or  absence,  the  power  or 
weakness  of  the  spiritual  faculties,  and  the  consequent  influ¬ 
ence  they  exert  in  transforming  the  lower  nature,  and  giving 
its  powers  a  new  activity  and  crowning  them  with  a  new  life. 

With  these  preliminary  explanations  I  proceed  to  our 
analysis. 

The  most  natural  division  of  the  powers  of  the  soul  is  into 
two  great  classes :  the  Motive  Powers  and  the  Acquisitive 
Powers.  By  the  Motive  Powers,  I  mean  those  which  supply  ) 
motive,  force,  impulse,  power;  by  the  Acquisitive  Powers,  ) 
those  which  furnish  information,  knowledge,  truth.  The 
Motive  Powers  again  are  divided  into  the  Animal  Impulses, 
which  are  necessary  to  the  support  and  protection  of  life  ; 
the  SociM  and  Industrial  Impulses,  which  make  man  a  social 
being  and  underlie  his  social~e^stence ;  and  the  Spiritual  > 
Impulses,  which  are  peculiar  to  him,  and  distinguish  him  ^ 
from  the  mere  animal  creation.  The  Acquisitive  Powers  " 
again  are  divided  into  the  Sensuous,  the  Supersensuous,  and 
the  Reflective.  This  classification,  with  the  suggested  facul¬ 
ties  under  each  division,  will  be  found  at  the  end  of  the  book 
in  a  tabular  form. 


36 


A  STUD  V  IJSf  HUMAN  NA  TURE. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  ANIMAL  IMPULSES. 

I.  There  are  certain  motive  powers  which  are  essential  to 
the  support  of  animal  existence.  These  are  the  appetites 
necessary  to  the  support  of  the  individual,  and  the  sexual 
passion  necessary  to  the  support  of  the  race.  There  still 
lingers  in  the  Church  and  in  religious  teachers  a  remnant  of 
the  old  Gnostic  philosophy  which  made  all  sin  to  consist  in 
the  body,  and  therefore  treated  all  fleshly  appetites  and  de¬ 
sires  as  sinful.  Men  still  regard  appetite  and  the  sexual 
desire  as  sinful,  because  they  lead  to  so  much  and  so  palpa¬ 
ble  evil,  and  it  must  be  conceded  that  there  are  phrases  in 
the  New  Testament,  especially  in  Paul’s  Epistles,  which,  if 
taken  out  of  their  due  order  and  connection,  give  some  color 
to  this  view.  But  the  teaching  of  the  New  Testament,  includ¬ 
ing  that  of  Paul,  if  taken  in  its  entirety,  gives  no  warrant  to  this 
false  philosophy  of  human  life.  On  the  contrary,  Paul  explic¬ 
itly  warns  the  Colossians  not  to  be  subject  to  the  rule  of  this 
ascetic  philosophy  of  life,  “  Touch  not,  taste  not,  handle 
not;  ”  and  to  the  Philippians  he  declares  that  he  knows  how 
to  abound  as  well  as  how  to  suffer  want.  What  the  Bible 
condemns  is  the  supremacy  of  these  animal  appetites  and 
desires  over  the  intellectual  and  spiritual  nature.  They  are 
the  lowest  of  all  the  impulses,  and  should  be  subordinate. 
When  they  demand  control  they  are  in  revolt;  when  they 
obtain  control  the  soul  is  in  anarchy.  Then  the  mob  has 
mastery  of  the  palace,  and  destruction  is  inevitable.  The 
appetite  has  for  its  principal  function  to  induce  the  individ¬ 
ual  to  take  such  food  and  fluid  as  is  necessary  to  supply  the 
waste  of  the  body  and  keep  it  in  a  good  physical  condition. 


THE  ANIMAL  IMPULSES. 


37 


Connected  with  it  is  a  palate  which  accepts  some  articles  of 
diet  and  rejects  others.  Both  the  palate  and  the  appetite 
may  become  diseased ;  their  action  is  rarely  absolutely 
healthy,  and  never  infallible  ;  but  a  desire  for  a  particular 
article  of  food  is  generally  a  sign — though  often  a  misleading 
one — that  the  body  needs  that  particular  article,  or  at  least 
the  material  which  that  article  supplies.  In  the  case  of  two 
boys,  brothers,  one  of  whom  is  very  fond  of  sweets,  the  other 
of  acids,  the  desire  in  each  case  is  an  indication  of  the  needs 
of  the  two  organizations.  So  a  craving  for  meat  in  one,  and 
a  distaste  for  it  in  another,  is  an  indication  that  the  one  re¬ 
quires  and  the  other  does  not  require  it.  If  the  body  were 
perfectly  healthy,  and  in  a  perfectly  natural  environment,  the 
appetite  would  be  a  reasonably,  possibly  an  entirely,  safe 
guide.  This  is  not,  however,  the  case.  Diseased  appetites, 
unnatural  and  unhealthy  desires,  have  been  handed  down 
from  generation  to  generation.  Civilization  has  brought 
many  influences  to  bear  upon  man  which  produce  unnatural 
desires.  A  fever  produces  an  intense  craving  for  water, 
which  is  due,  not  to  a  real  want  of  more  liquid  in  the  system, 
but  to  an  unusual  heat  which  craves  cooling.  So  overwork 
and  overexcitement  produce  a  demand  for  stimulants ;  bad 
air  and  bad  food  a  demand  for  too  much  nutriment,  or 
perhaps  a  distaste  for  all.  The  ill-educated  palate  requires 
sweets  or  spices.  The  dyspeptic’s  hunger  is  no  indication 
of  a  need  of  food,  and  his  sense  of  overfullness  is  no  indica¬ 
tion  tliat  he  has  nutriment  enough.  In  a  word,  the  instincts 
are  very  far  from  being  a  safe  and  trustworthy  guide  to  be 
undeviatingly  followed.  They  are  symptoms  whose  real  sig¬ 
nificance  the  reason  must  consider  and  interpret  before  they 
can  be  followed  with  safety. 

2.  In  a  similar  manner  the  sexual  passion  is  essential  to 
the  perfection  of  the  race.  It  repeats  and  emphasizes  the 
divine  command  given  by  God  to  our  first  parents :  “  Be 
fruitful,  and  multiply,  and  replenish  the  earth.”  Without  it 


38 


A  STUD  V  IN  HUMAN  NA  TURK. 


the  family  would  be  impossible.  Our  children  ought  to  be 
early  taught  by  their  parents  its  sacred  significance  and  its 
value.  They  ought  not  to  be  left  to  learn  about  it  from  often 
immoral  and  always  ignorant  companions.  They  ought  not 
to  be  punished  for  falling  into  a  habit  of  self-indulgence 
against  which  they  have  never  been  warned.  This  strange, 
mysterious  desire,  which  always  accompanies  health  and 
vigor,  and  which  prompts  both  to  the  purest  love  and  the 
most  bestial  excesses,  cannot  be  eradicated,  for  God  has 
planted  it  in  man  ;  it  should  be  early  directed  by  the  child’s 
natural  guardian  and  teacher.  As  with  the  individual,  so 
with  society ;  the  social  evils  which  grow  out  of  the  sexual 
appetite  are  various  and  deadly.  They  are  often  fostered 
directly  by  unscrupulous  men  for  purposes  of  gain,  from  mo¬ 
tives  of  avarice.  They  can  be  checked  somewhat  bylaw; 
but  so  long  as  appetite  exists,  so  long  the  sins  of  appetite 
will  continue  to  poison  society ;  and  the  only  real  and  radical 
remedy  is  that  education  and  that  spiritual  development 
which  brings  the  appetites  themselves  into  subordination  to 
the  law  of  God  as  revealed  to  and  written  -in  the  higher 
nature.  Law  can  protect  society  from  these  evils  in  some 
measure;  but  no  law  can  eradicate  them.  Nothing  can  do 
that  but  the  subjection  of  the  appetite  and  the  supremacy  of 
the  spirit. 

3.  Next  to  the  appetites  and  passions  come  the  impulses 
of  combativeness  and  destructiveness.  The  former  were 
necessary  to  the  support  of  life ;  these  are  necessary  to  its 
protection.  Man  is  surrounded  by  enemies  ;  enemies  to  his 
existence  and  to  his  progress ;  enemies  to  his  physical  and  to 
his  spiritual  well-being.  He  needs,  therefore,  to  be  endowed 
with  certain  powers  of  combativeness  and  destructiveness  ; 
powers  which  enable  him  to  stand  up  strongly,  contend 
bravely,  and  destroy  utterly.  The  exercise  of  these  faculties 
of  combativeness  and  destructiveness  is  commanded  also  to 
our  first  parents  in  the  Garden  in  the  law,  “  Subdue  it  [the 


THE  ANIMAL  IMPULSES. 


39 


earth]  and  have  dominion.”  This  man  could  not  do  unless 
he  were  fitted  to  be  a  combatant ;  without  both  the  powers 
and  the  instinct  of  combat,  he  could  not  conquer  nature, 
subdue  the  wilderness,  battle  with  the  wild  beasts,  and  so 
tame  the  world  to  be  his  dwelling-place.  For  this  he  must 
have  the  moral  as  well  as  the  material  force  ;  the  impulse  as 
well  as  the  nerve  and  the  muscle.  The  possession  of  these 
qualities  give  force,  energy,  courage,  pluck,  push.  They  are 
seen  in  every  pioneer,  in  every  great  captain,  in  every  man 
of  large  success.  Without  this  power  Luther  could  never 
have  burned  the  Pope’s  bull  in  the  court-yard  at  Wittenberg ;  ^ 

nor  could  Paul  have  faced  the  mob  from  the  stairs  of  the  ^ 
Tower  of  Antonia ;  nor  could  Christ  have  driven  the  traders 
from  the  temple  courts.  It  is  this  which  made  him  the  Lion  of  ^ 
the  tribe  of  Judah.  A  single  individual  may  be  an  estima¬ 
ble  member  of  society  without  it;  for  others  about  him, 
stronger  and  more  courageous  than  himself,  will  do  his  bat¬ 
tling  for  him,  and  he  will  compensate  by  other  and  gentler 
services.  But  the  human  race  could  not  survive  its  loss.  It 
would  be  overborne  and  perish  from  its  own  weakness  and 
imbecility.  This  gives  pov/er  of  punishment  to  all  govern¬ 
ments.  It  is  at  the  root  of  every  form  of  wrath  and  indigna¬ 
tion.  It  enables  the  parent  to  punish  his  child;  the  govern¬ 
ment  to  punish  crime.  It  breaks  out  in  lynch  law  against  the 
desperado.  It  may  become  the  instrument  of  any  other 
faculty.  Serving  acquisitiveness,  it  becomes  predatory,  and 
makes  its  possessor  a  robber  and  a  plunderer;  serving  con¬ 
science,  it  becomes  an  honorable  courage,  and  makes  its 
possessor  a  guardian  of  the  interests  of  his  home  or  his 
state  from  the  robber  or  the  anarchist.  The  lack  of  it 
begets  irresolution,  effeminacy,  weakness,  cowardice ;  its 
excess,  or  ill-direction,  or  ill-control,  begets  quarrelsome¬ 
ness,  a  disputatious  spirit,  the  gladiator,  whether  with 
muscle  or  brain,  cruelty,  rapine,  murder.  It  is  indispen¬ 
sable  to  the  existence  of  mankind,  but  it  is  also  one  of  the 


40 


A  STUD  Y  IN’  HUMAN  NA  TURE. 


prolific  sources  of  all  that  is  inhuman  in  history  and  in 
life."^. 

4.  Akin  in  its  object,  but  contrasted  by  its  nature  with 
combativeness  and  destructiveness,  is  cautiousness.  The 
one  protects  by  fight,  the  other  by  flight.  The  one  is  the  lion 
in  man,  the  other  is  the  hare.  The  commingling  of  the  two 
constitutes  true  courage  ;  for  there  is  no  true  courage  with¬ 
out  a  perception  of  danger  and  a  desire  to  avoid  it.  Caution 
is  one  of  the  restraining  impulses,  holding  men  back  from 
too  sudden,  too  aggressive,  and  too  heedless  action.  It  com¬ 
pels  them  to  pause,  to  reflect,  to  consider.  It  is  a  rein ; 
combativeness  and  destructiveness  are  spurs.  It  is  strongest 
in  women  ;  is  seen  in  its  worst  aspects  in  effeminate  men.  It 
is  the  cause  of  all  cowardice;  leads  to  concealments  ;  is  man¬ 
ifested  in  ordinary  social  life  in  the  sensitive  disposition  of 
the  timid  ;  often  underlies  a  vacillating  disposition ;  is  the 
most  common  cause  of  deception  and  falsehood  ;  and  should 
be  counteracted  always  by  hope,  courage,  conscience,  love; 
almost  never  by  severe  punishment.  It  is  invaluable  as  a 
restraining  and  counteracting  faculty ;  when  it  becomes  the 
dominant  motive,  it  is  fatal  to  forcefulness  and  efficiency  of 
character. 

5.  Among  the  impulses  whose  object  is  a  preservation  of 
existence  must  also  be  put  the  love  of  offspring.  So  much 
has  been  said  and  written  about  parental  love,  about  mothers’ 
love  especially,  that  it  may  seem  to  the  reader  doubtful 
whether  this  impulse  belongs  here  among  the  lower  animal 
impulses.  But  a  moment’s  reflection  will  convince  him  that 
the  love  of  offspring  is  in  its  lowest  forms  a  purely  animal 
instinct ;  seen  in  the  cat’s  care  for  her  kitten,  the  hen’s  for 
her  chickens,  the  cow’s  for  her  calf  in  every  farm-yard  ;  seen 
also,  alas !  as  a  mere  blind  semi-sensual  instinct,  in  many  a 


*  The  phrenologist  generally  distinguishes  between  combativeness  and  destructiveness. 
But  thej'  are  so  nearly  akin,  that  I  think  any  discrimination  between  them  is  rather  con¬ 
fusing  than  helpful  in  analysis. 


THE  ANIMAL  IMPULSES. 


41 


home,  where  the  father  or  mother  cannot  bear  to  inflict  pain, 
or  thwart  a  desire,  or  permit  a  disappointment,  or  allow  a 
burden,  and  so  the  child  grows  up,  coddled  and  tended,  to 
be  weak  and  wayward  and  willful,  and  often  worse.  This 
parental  instinct,  guided  and  inspired  by  the  higher  nature, 
is  the  child’s  guardian  from  present  evil,  and  guide  into  future 
manhood;  but  unguided  and  uninspired,  it  protects  only  from 
pain,  which  is  God’s  method  of  discipline,  and  seeking  only 
happiness,  guides  often  into  destruction  and  misery.  It  is, 
too,  quite  evident  that  it  is  necessary  for  the  protection  of 
existence  ;  for  the  infant,  whether  of  man  or  animal,  is  rarely 
able  at  first  to  protect  himself;  the  higher  his  rank  in  the 
scale  of  being  the  greater  the  necessity  for  protection  ;  and 
if  there  were  no  parental  instinct,  if  there  was  nothing  but  a 
general  and  distributed  sentiment  of  pity,  he  would  certainly 
suffer  greatly,  and  would  generally  die  for  want  of  the  power 
in  himself  of  self-protection.  The  parental  instinct  endows 
him  with  all  the  faculties  and  powers  of  his  parent,  especially 
with  those  of  his  mother — for  in  both  brutes  and  men  this  in¬ 
stinct  is  almost  invariably  the  strongest  in  the  female — until 
his  own  powers  have  attained  sufficient  growth  to  make  him 
able  to  protect  himself. 


42 


A  STUDY  IN  HUMAN  NATURE. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  SOCIAL  AND  INDUSTRIAL  IMPULSES. 

1.  At  the  foundation  of  the  social  organization  in  all  its 
various  manifestations  is  the  social  instinct.  The  phrenolo¬ 
gists  call  it  adhesiveness.  Some  animals  are  gregarious, 
others  are  solitary.  Man  is  gregarious.  The  recluse  is  an 
exception.  There  is  but  one  Thoreau.  Solitary  imprison¬ 
ment  is  the  most  dreaded  of  all  penalties.  Men  are  impelled 
to  associate  together  in  political,  industrial,  and  social  enter¬ 
prises.  Their  intercourse  in  these  associations  is  regulated 
in  a  large  measure  by  the  spiritual  impulses,  of  which  we 
shall  have  something  to  say  in  the  next  chapter:  But  the  as¬ 
sociation  itself  is  a  necessity  of  human  nature  irrespective  of 
the  ulterior  advantages  to  be  gained  from  it. 

Bain  attempts,  but  not  very  successfully,  to  account  for 
the  social  instinct  by  the  fact  that  it  is  a  means  to  an  end. 
We  associate,  according  to  him,  to  gratify  our  benevolent 
impulses  ;  to  get  aid  from  others  in  our  life  and  its  undertak¬ 
ings;  to  gratify  our  love  of  power  or  of  applause,  and  the 
like.  These  most  certainly  intensify  the  social  instinct ;  but 
the  social  instinct  exists  independent  of  them.  A  man  may 
be  very  social  and  yet  supremely  selfish ;  he  may  dread  iso¬ 
lation  and  yet  be  cynical.  Sociality  is  a  primary  fact  of  hu¬ 
man  nature.  There  is  a  molecular  attraction  which  draws 
men  together.  Humanity  instinctively  coalesces  as  drops  of 
water  in  a  stream. 

2.  Doubtless  one  of  the  chief  promoters  and  regulators  of 
this  social  instinct  is  approbativenesj,  or  the  love  of  praise. 
Mr.  Darwin  regards  it,  I  think  wholly  without  good  ground, 
as  constituting  the  basis  of  conscience.  But  unquestionably 


THE  SOCIAL  AND  INDUSTRIAL  IMPULSES. 


43 


it  re-enforces  conscience  in  some  cases,  and  serves  as  a  very- 
poor  substitute  for  it  in  others.  It  promotes,  if  it  does  not 
produce,  what  we  commonly  call  good  nature.  This  is  very 
different  from  benevolence.  The  good-natured  man  does 
not  live  to  produce  the  greatest  amount  of  good  to  the  great¬ 
est  number,  nor  even  to  his  immediate  neighbor.  He  tries 
to  please  him  not  to  build  him  up,  and  is  often  as  ready  to 
do  him  a  real  injury  as  a  real  benefit,  if  it  will  win  the  reward 
of  approbation  at  the  time.  He  that  is  governed  by  appro- 
bativeness  is  a  prey  to  many  and  sometimes  seemingly  diverse 
faults.  He  is  easily  discouraged,  and  not  easily  satisfied. 
The  more  he  is  praised  the  more  praise  he  demands.  He  is 
guided  and  often  governed  by  the  opinions  of  others.  He  is 
rarely  strong  unless  his  approbativeness  is  more  than  balanced 
by  some  other  motive,  self-esteem,  for  example,,  or  conscien¬ 
tiousness.  This  is  the  secret  source  of  the  human  passion 
for  “  glory ;  ”  for  it,  as  expressed  by  a  medal,  the  scholar 
toils  and  the  soldier  fights.  It  is  universal ;  perhaps  of  all 
the  motive  powers  the  most  various  in  its  activity  and  the 
most  pervasive  though  not  the  most  powerful  in  its  effects. 

'  “  The  love  of  praise,  howe’er  concealed  by  art, 

Reigns  more  or  less  and  glows  in  every  heart ; 

The  proud  to  gain  it,  toils  on  toils  endure, 

The  modest  shun  it,  but  to  make  it  sure.” 

When  it  is  the  foundation  of  character  it  lures  on  to  in¬ 
evitable  moral  ruin.  The  man  who  makes  approbativeness 
a  substitute  for  conscience  has  no  other  standard  of  right  and 
wrong  than  the  opinion  of  his  own  public,  which  is  a  far  less 
trustworthy  standard  even  than  public  opinion.  He  becomes 
a  chameleon,  changing  his  character  and  his  opinions  to  suit 
the  company  he  is  in,  and  doing  it  instinctively,  unconscious¬ 
ly,  and  in  a  sense  honestly.  When  he  loses  the  approbation 
of  his  fellow-men  he  loses  the  last  restraint  and  incentive. 
The  history  of  Aaron  Burr  is  the  history  of  a  man  of  brilliant 


44 


A  STUD  Y  IN  HUMAN  NA  TURE. 


parts,  wrecked  by  the  absence  of  a  conscience  and  the  sub¬ 
stitution  as  a  moral  mentor  of  approbativeness.  On  the 
other  hand,  he  who  lacks  approbativeness  lacks  tact,  sympa¬ 
thy,  quick  fellowship,  readiness  to  appreciate,  or  willingness 
to  weigh,  the  feelings  and  opinions  of  others.  He  does  not 
assimilate  with  others,  for  he  is  indifferent  to  their  sentiments. 
He  is  disregardful  not  always  of  their  real  interests,  but  of 
their  wish,es  and  feelings.  He  does  not  consider  the  effect  of 
his  example  on  otlper^  and  so  allows  his  good  to  be  evil 
spoken  of.  His  self-esteem  becomes  an  intolerable  self-con¬ 
ceit,  and  his  conscience  a  tyrant  over  others.  He  becomes 
pert,  angular,  rude,  boorish. 

3.  Self-esteem  is  sometimes  popularly  confounded  with 
approbativeness ;  it  is  in  actual  experience  more  commonly 
the  antidote  thereto.  Approbativeness  leads  us  to  de¬ 
sire  the  approbation  of  others;  self-esteem  leads  us  to  de- 
(^sire  our  own.  Approbativeness  asks  what  will  others  think 
of  us  ;  self-esteem,  what  shall  we  think  of  ourselves.  Self-es¬ 
teem  tends  to  give  its  possessor  iiidependence  of  thought, 
individuality  of  action  ;  to  make  him  forceful  and  vigorous. 

It  is  to  be  found  in  nearly  all  born  leaders,  whether  of 
thought  or  of  action.  Its  normal  and  natural  exercise  pro¬ 
duces  self-reliance  and  enforces  courage.  If  it  is  not  excess-  ' 
ive,  it  is  a  consciousness  of  power  and  adds  to  real  strength 
of  character.  If  it  is  excessive,  it  is  an  imaginary  conscious¬ 
ness  of  power  which  has  no  real  existence,  and  is  a  fatal 
weakness.  The  divine  law  of  self-esteem  is  expressed  by  the 
apostle  Paul  in  the  direction  to  every  man,  “  not  to  think  of'^ 
himself  more  highly  than  he  ought  to  think ;  but  to  think 
soberly.”  A  wise,  right,  and  true  estimate  of  one’s  own 
powers  is  necessary  to  their  highest  and  best  use.  The  gen¬ 
eral  who  overestimates  his  forces  leads  them  to  defeat ;  he 
who  underestimates  them  does  not  lead  them  at  all.  Self¬ 
esteem  in  excess  leads  to  pride,  censoriousness,  arrogance  ; 
it  makes  its  possessor  impervious  to  criticism,  and  even  to 


THE  SOCIAL  A  HD  INDUSTRIAL  IMPULSES. 


the  lessons  of  bitter  experience.  Whatever  his  failures,  he 
always  attributes  them  to  other  causes  than  his  own  mis¬ 
takes.  He  is  always  too  wise  to  learn.  It  is  the  exact  op¬ 
posite  of  that  poverty  of  spirit  which  Christ  said  was  the  first 
condition  of  entering  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  “  Seest  thou 
a  man  wise  in  his  own  conceit ;  there  is  more  hope  of  a  fool 
than  of  him.”  On  the  other  hand,  the  lack  of  a  due  and 
proper  self-esteem  is  almost  invariably  accompanied  with  an 
excess  of  approbativeness.  The  result  is  a  weak  and  vacil¬ 
lating  character.  A  man  who  has  no  confidence  in  the  wis-' 
dom  of  his  judgments  or  in  his  power  to  execute  them  is 
timid,  irresolute,  uncertain,  dependent  upon  others,  a  fol¬ 
lower  of  stronger  natures,  never  a  leader.  Approbativeness 
is  the  most  common  weakness  of  women,  self-esteem  of  men. 
The  one  neutralizes  the  other.  Both  cannot  well  be  in  ex¬ 
cess.  He  who  has  an  excessive  confidence  in  his  own  powers 
will  be  indifferent  to  the  commendation  and  criticism  of  his 
fellow-men ;  he  who  has  a  supreme  regard  to  the  opinions  of 
his  fellow-men  will  be  distrustful  of  his  own.  Neither  appro¬ 
bativeness  nor  self-esteem  are  necessarily  a  fault.  An  illustra¬ 
tion  of  a  divine  form  of  approbativeness  is  afforded  by  Christ’s 
parting  request  to  his  disciples  to  preserve  his  memory 
through  all  coming  ages  by  a  memorial  supper.  An  illustra¬ 
tion  of  a  divine  form  of  self-esteem  is  afforded  by  his  decla¬ 
ration  to  the  Pharisees,  “  Ye  are  from  beneath,  I  am  from 
above,”  and  by  his  declaration  to  his  disciples,  “Ye  call  me 
Master  and  Lord :  and  ye  say  well ;  for  so  I  am.” 

4.  The  love  of  acquisition  appears  to  be  a  primary  and  in¬ 
stinctive  impulse  of  the  human  soul.  It  is,  indeed,  seen  in 
some  of  the  higher  animals,  especially  in  the  bee  and  the 
ant;  but  it  belongs  to  the  social  rather  than  to  the  animal 
nature;  it  is  pre-eminently  human.  Unquestionably  this  de¬ 
sire  is  stimulated  by  the  advantages  conferred  by  acquisition; 
it  is  a  means  to  an  end  ;  and  from  the  boy  struggling  for  a 
toy,  to  the  man  struggling  for  a  larger  bank  account,  some 


46 


A  STUD  Y  IN  HUMAN  NA  TURE. 


real  or  imaginary  pleasure  derived  from  the  possession  is 
generally  and  perhaps  always  in  view.  But  there  appears  to 
be  a  pleasure  in  new  possessions  apart  from  the  uses  and  enjoy¬ 
ments  which  they  afford.  At  all  events,  whether  acquisitive¬ 
ness  be  regarded  as  a  primary  and  fundamental  motive  power, 
or  only  the  working  out  of  other  motive  powers  of  the  mind,  it 
enters  so  largely  into  human  life  that  it  may  well  be  regarded 
as  a  distinct  impulse.  It  is  the  mainspring  of  industry  ;  the 
secret  power  of  material  civilization.  It  is  the  love  of  acqui¬ 
sition  which  has  opened  a  highway  for  commerce  across  be¬ 
fore  untrodden  seas,  bridged  the  continents  with  iron  high¬ 
ways,  opened  the  hidden  wealth  in  gold  and  silver  and  iron 
mines,  brought  lumber  from  the  forests  and  coal  from  the 
hills,  plowed  the  prairies  and  harvested  the  plain  where  the 
bison  once  roamed,  founded  cities  on  the  site  of  the  wigwam. 
It  has  been  a  greater  motive  power  than  conscience ;  it  has 
achieved  more  for  mankind  than  benevolence.  It  has 
sheathed  the  sword  and  forged  the  plowshare;  has  con¬ 
quered  combativeness ;  has  turned  man  from  a  wild  beast 
into  a  domestic  animal,  from  a  destroyer  into  a  producer. 
But  this  is  all.  It  is  without  a  moral  character  or  a  moral 
purpose.  Guided  by  reason  it  avoids  criminal  dishonesties, 
because  reason  sees  that  wealth  acquired  by  methods  which 
arouse  the  indignation  of  mankind  is  never  permanent.  But 
it  is  the  secret  of  covetousness  and  avarice.  It  is  the  parent 
of  the  gambling-house  and  the  liquor-saloon.  It  is  embodied 
in  all  speculative  operations.  Unrestrained  by  conscience  it 
is  dishonest,  untempered  by  benevolence  it  is  cruel.  It  is  a 
root  of  all  evil.  They  that  are  controlled  by  it,  that  ivill  be 
rich,  fall  into  a  snare.  It  is  at  once  the  most  useful  and  the 
most  despicable  of  the  social  motives. 

5,  Closely  allied  to  it  is  the  constructive  instinct ;  the  in¬ 
clination  to  build,  to  put  together;  prominently  manifested 
in  all  engineers,  engravers,  and  mechanics.  Employed  in 
the  intellectual  realm  its  work  appears  in  more  subtle  forms. 


THE  SOCIAL  AND  INDUSTRIAL  IMPULSES. 


Al  ■ 


The  writer  who  possesses  it  constructs  his  work  with  skill, 
though  it  may  be  barren  of  ornament  or  fancy;  the  preacher 
endowed  with  it  makes  a  good  skeleton  though  he  may  utter¬ 
ly  fail  to  infuse  it  with  the  life  of  human  sympathy  and  feel¬ 
ing.  It  is  the  secret  of  all  modern  mechanics,  and  of  very 
much  of  modern  practical  science.  It  is  the  opposite  of 
destructiveness ;  is  witnessed  in  any  eminent  degree  only  in 
the  higher  stages  of  civilization  ;  and  is,  perhaps,  the  highest 
of  all  the  social  instincts.  Its  manifestations  are  witnessed 
in  lower  forms  in  the  animal  creation,  as  in  the  bee  and  the 
beaver;  but  it  is  essentially  a  human  and  social  instinct. 

6.  The  tendency  to  imitate,  of  which  in  the  animal  crea¬ 
tion  illustrations  are  seen  in  the  parrot,  the  mocking-bird, 
and  the  ape,  is  also  a  human  instinct.  It  is  seen  in  all  forms 
of  mimicry;  enters  largely  into  every  phase  of  dramatic 
representation,  from  that  of  dramatic  oratory,  like  that  of  John 
B.  Gough,  to  that  of  the  stage  ;  underlies  much  of  the  power 
and  beauty  of  art  in  its  less  exalted  forms;  and  is  the  basis  of 
much  of  our  educational  system.  It  is  this  inclination  on  the 
part  of  humanity,  especially  of  the  young,  to  imitate  the  ac¬ 
tions  of  others,  which  gives  such  power  both  for  good  and 
for  evil  to  example.  It  is  this  which  makes  leadership  pos¬ 
sible  ;  for  there  can  be  no  leadership  without  an  inclination 
to  follow  the  leader.  It  induces  men  to  take  their  opinions 
from  others;  to  copy  the  actions  of  others;  to  model  their 
characters  after  others.  It  is  strongest  in  the  young,  or  in 
the  crude  and  uneducated.  John  Chinaman  given  a  plate  as 
a  model,  in  which  there  happens  to  be  a  crack,  makes  each 
of  the  dozen  with  a  corresponding  crack.  The  boy  smokes, 
not  because  he  likes  the  cigar,  which  sickens  him  on  a  first 
and  even  a  second  or  third  trial,  but  because  he  sees  his 
elders  smoke.  Approbativeness  and  imitativeness  work  to¬ 
gether.  They  are  harnessed  as  in  a  span.  Without  the  in¬ 
stinct  of  imitation,  society  would  tend  to  lapse  into  a  mere 
congeries  of  individuals ;  it  would  learn  from  the  experience 


43 


A  STUD  Y  IN  HUMAN  NA  TURK. 


cl  cUi 

V 


of  the  past  very  slowly,  if  at  all.  On  the  other  hand,  excess¬ 
ive  imitativeness  destroys  all  individuality  and  independence 
of  character,  and  reduces  the  man  to  an  automaton,  who 
moves  only  in  drill,  and  does  nothing  except  in  blind  imita¬ 
tion  of  a  supposed  superior. 

7.  To  these  social  instincts  should  probably  be  added  also 
the  instinct  of  local  attachment.  It  is  certain  that  some  per¬ 
sons  become  very  strongly  attached  to  places ;  others  have 
no  such  attachment.  It  is  said  that  the  cat  is  attached  to 
the  house,  the  dog  to  the  master.  The  one  pines  for  the 
house,  the  other  for  the  man.  A  like  difference  is  seen  in 
men.  Generally  women  have  stronger  local  attachments  than 
men.  A  rude  violation  of  this  instinct  is  one  of  the  chief 
causes  of  home-sickness.  A  principal  value  of  it  is  a  certain 
kind  of  local  stability.  Without  it  all  men  would  be,  as  are 
the  Bedouin  Arabs,  nomadic. 


THE  SPIRITUAL  IMPULSES. 


49 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  SPIRITUAL  IMPULSES. 

Man  is  distinguished  from  the  rest  of  the  animal  creation 
by  his  moral  and  spiritual  nature.  The  distinction  recog¬ 
nized  in  the  earlier  books  of  mental  science  between  reason 
and  instinct  is  now  largely  abandoned.  There  are  instinctive 
and  almost  automatic  actions,  as  there  are  intelligent  and 
thoughtful  ones ;  but  the  distinction  between  the  brute  and 
the  man  is  not  in  the  possession  of  mere  instinct  by  the  one 
and  of  reason  by  the  other.  Man  sometimes  acts  from  in¬ 
stinct;  he  does  so  whensoever  he  follows  blindly  one  of  the 
impulses  which  we  have  described  above,  without  stopping  to 
submit  the  proposed  action  to  the  questions  and  directions  of 
his  reasoning  powers.  On  the  other  hand,  there  are  abundant 
evidences  of  the  possession  and  use  of  reasoning  power  by 
the  brute  creation,  though  in  very  crude  forms  and  within 
very  narrow  limitations.  The  dog,  the  horse,  the  elephant, 
consider,  reflect,  reason.  Tlmy  exercise  the  faculty  of  caus¬ 
ality  and  comparison,  of  which  we  shall  have  something  to 
say  in  a  subsequent  chapter.  But  there  is  no  indication  what- ' 
ever  of  the  possession  or  exercise  by  them  of  any  moral  dis¬ 
crimination,  or  of  any  spiritual  power.  It  is  the  moral  and 
spiritu^al  po^vers  of  which  we  are  now  about  to  speak  which 
distinguish  man  from  the  brute.  Brutes  reason  as  truly  as 
men;  but  every  man  is  a  law  unto  himself,  while  the  brutes 
are  subject  to  law  only  as  they  are  brought  under  it  by  a  su¬ 
perior  force.  They  do  not  rule  themselves  by  recognized 
laws  of  right  and  wrong.  The  only  law  recognized  is  the 
law  of  the  strongest.  All  men  worship ;  the  exceptions,  if 

there  are  any,  are  so  few  as  to  be  insignificant.  Every  nation 
3 


s 


50 


A  STUD  y  IN  HUMAN  NA  TURK. 


has  its  religion  or  its  superstition,  its  god  or  its  demon,  its 
temple  or  its  fetish.  There  is  no  indication  of  any  thing 
analogous  to  worship  among  the  brutes ;  they  have  houses, 
but  no  temple  ;  social  organization,  but  no  revealed  law ; 
domestic  instincts,  but  no  spirit  of  universal  benevolence. 

I.  Conscience  is  the  factor  which  recognizes  the  inherent 
and  essential  distinction  between  right  and  wrong,  and  which 
impels  to  the  right  and  dissuades  from  the  wrong.  It  does 
not  come  within  the  province  of  this  book  to  discuss  either 
the  basis  of  ethics  or  its  laws ;  to  consider  either  why  some 
things  are  wrong  and  others  are  right,  nor  to  point  out  what 
is  wrong  and  what  is  right.  That  belongs  to  moral  science, 
not  to  mental  science.  It  must  suffice  here  to  say  that  the 
distinction  between  right  and  wrong  is  recognized  in  all 
peoples,  and  is  one  of  the  first  objects  of  perception  in  child¬ 
hood.  Standards  differ  in  different  races  and  in  different 
ages.  The  power  of  moral  discrimination  is  subject  to  edu¬ 
cation  both  for  good  and  for  evil.  But  the  sense  of  ought  is 
as  universal  as  the  sense  of  beauty.  That  there  is  a  right  and 
a  wrong  is  as  evident  to  every  mind  as  that  there  is  a  wise 
and  a  foolish,  a  beautiful  and  an  ugly,  a  pleasant  and  a  dis¬ 
agreeable.  There  are  things  pleasant  and  things  repulsive 
to  the  moral  sense,  as  there  are  things  pleasant  and  things 
repulsive  to  the  eye  and  to  the  palate ;  there  is  a  sense  of 
right  and  wrong  as  there  is  a  sense  of  beauty  and  a  sense  of 
taste.  It  has  been  a  matter  of  great  debate  among  philoso¬ 
phers  what  is  the  ground  of  right  and  wrong.  We  cannot 
here  enter  into  this  debate.  I  shall  assume,  what  is  by  no 
means  universally  conceded,  that  it  is  a  primary  fact  in  life  ; 
that  the  right  is  right  and  the  wrong  is  wrong,  irrespective 
both  of  commands  and  consequences ;  that  the  right  is  right 
not  because  God  commanded,  but  God  commands  it  because 
it  is  right ;  and  it  is  right  not  because  it  produces  happiness, 
but  it  produces  happiness  because  it  is  right.  That  it  would 
still  be  right  though  it  produced  misery  instead  of  happiness. 


THE  SPIRITUAL  IMPULSES. 


51 


and  was  forbidden,  not  commanded;  that  it  is  as  truly  the 
law  of  God’s  nature  as  of  man’s  nature  ;  and  that  if  we  could 
conceive  his  commanding  any  of  his  children  to  do  what  is 
not  right  it  would  change,  not  the  character  of  the  action,  but 
his  own  character.  I  assume,  too,  that  as  right  and  wrong 
are  primary  facts  of  human  life,  so  the  faculty  which  recog¬ 
nizes  that  fact,  and  which  impels  men  to  do  right  and  to 
eschew  wrong,  is  a  primary  faculty.  Men  are  to  be  guided 
by  their  judgment  in  determining  what  is  right  and  what  is 
wrong;  but  the  judgment  does  not  determine  that  there  is  a 
right  and  a  wrong.  Their  sense  of  right  and  wrong  is  clari¬ 
fied  or  obscured,  their  impulse  to  the  right  and  away  from 
the  wrong  is  strengthened  or  weakened,  by  other  faculties ; 
but  it  is  not  dependent  upon  them.  Approbativeness  may 
lead  them  to  do  what  other  people  think  to  be  right ;  but 
desire  for  the  approbation  of  others  is  not  conscience,  nor 
the  ground  nor  basis  of  conscience."^  Self-esteem  may 
strengthen  their  purpose  to  do  right,  and  so  win  their  own 
approval ;  but  self-esteem  is  not  conscience,  and  self-esteem 
and  conscience  may  come  into  direct  conflict.  Benevolence 
may  add  its  persuasions  to  the  impulse  of  conscience,  and 
the  man  may  be  impelled  to  do  right  because  doing  right 
will  also  do  good  to  others.  But  this  is  not  the  ground  of 
his  conviction  that  there  is  a  right ;  and  the  right  may  even 
seem  to  be  fraught  with  irreparable  injury  and  no  compensa¬ 
tory  good  to  others,  and  so  benevolence  and  conscience  come 
in  conflict.  The  recognition  of  right  and  wrong  and  the  im¬ 
pulse  to  right  and  away  from  wrong  is  original,  primary, 
causeless,  one  of  the  simple  and  indivisible  powers  of  the 
soul  of  man.  I  cannot  better  state  this  truth — I  have  no 
space  here  to  argue  it — than  in  the  words  of  Professor  Hux¬ 
ley,  who  will  certainly  not  be  accused  of  any  undue  orthodox 
proclivities  ; 


*  As  Darwin  makes  it.  See  his  “  Emotions  in  Animals  and  Man.” 


52 


A  STUDY  IN  HUMAN  NA  TURE. 


“Justice  is  founded  on  the  love  of  one’s  neighbor;  and 
goodness  is  a  kind  of  beauty.  The  moral  law,  like  the  laws 
of  physical  nature,  rests  in  the  long  run  upon  instinctive  in¬ 
tuitions,  and  is  neither  more  nor  less  innate  and  necessary 
than  they  are.  Some  people  cannot  by  any  means  be  got 
to  understand  the  first  book  of  Euclid  ;  but  the  truths  of 
mathematics  are  no  less  necessary  and  binding  on  the  great 
mass  of  mankind.  Some  there  are  who  cannot  feel  the  dif¬ 
ference  between  the  Sonata  Apassionata  and  Cherry  Ripe;  or 
between  a  grave-stone  cutter’s  cherub  and  the  Apollo  Belve¬ 
dere  ;  but  the  canons  of  art  are  none  the  less  acknowledged. 
While  some  there  may  be  who,  devoid  of  sympathy,  are 
incapable  of  a  sense  of  duty  ;  but  neither  does  their  existence 
affect  the  foundations  of  morality.  Such  pathological  devia¬ 
tions  from  true  manhood  are  merely  the  halt,  the  lame,  the 
blind  of  the  world  of  consciousness;  and  the  anatomist  of  the 
mind  leaves  them  aside,  as  the  anatomist  of  the  body  would 
ignore  abnormal  specimens.”* 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  point  out  the  function  or  dwell 
upon  the  necessity  of  conscience  in  human  life.  It  is  funda¬ 
mental  to  all  that  is  human  in  life.  Without  it  men  would  be 
brutes ;  society  would  be  wholly  predatory ;  the  only  law 
recognized  would  be  the  law  of  the  strongest ;  the  only  re¬ 
straint  on  cupidity  would  be  self-interest.  There  could  be 
neither  justice  nor  freedom.  Trade  would  be  a  perpetual 
attempt  at  the  spoliation  of  one’s  neighbor.  Law  could  be 
enforced  only  by  fear,  and  government  would  be  of  necessity 
a  despotism.  The  higher  faculties  uninfluenced  by  con¬ 
science  would  rapidly  degenerate.  Reverence  would  no 
longer  be  paid  to  the  good  and  the  true,  but  only  to  the 
strong  and  the  terrible ;  religion  would  become  a  supersti¬ 
tion  ;  God  a  demon  ruling  by  fear,  not  by  law ;  punishment 
a  torment  inflicted  by  hate  and  wrath,  not  a  penalty  sanc- 


*  “  English  Men  of  Letters  :  Hume,”  by  Prof,  Huxley.  Harper  &  Brothers,  p.  206. 


THE  SPIRITUAL  IMPULSES. 


53 


tioned  by  conscience  for  disregard  of  its  just  and  necessary 
laws ;  and  benevolence  itself,  unregulated  by  a  sense  of  right 
and  wrong,  would  become  a  mere  sentiment,  following  with 
its  tears  the  robber  as  readily  as  the  Messiah  to  his  crucifix¬ 
ion,  and  strewing  its  flowers  as  lavishly  on  the  grave  of  the 
felon  as  on  that  of  the  martyr.  In  history  have  been  seen 
all  these  exhibitions,  not  of  the  absolute  elimination  of  con¬ 
science  from  human  life,  for  conscience  has  never  been 
wholly  wanting  in  the  most  degraded  epoch  of  the  most 
degraded  nation,  but  of  its  obscuration  and  its  effeminacy. 

It  is,  perhaps,  more  needful  to  remark  that  the  evils  of  a 
character  whose  conscience  is  not  controlled  by  other  and 
still  higher  faculties  are  quite  as  great.  Conscience  combined 
with  self-esteem,  uninstructed  by  faith  and  unrestrained  by 
benevolence,  is  the  most  remorseless  and  cruel  of  impulses. 
The  ingenious  persecutions  which  it  invented  and  inflicted  in 
the  Middle  Ages  on  the  Protestants  of  Italy,  Spain,  France, 
and  the  Netherlands,  far  exceeded  those  which  mere  brutal 
combativeness  and  destructiveness  inflicted  on  the  Jews  in 
the  reign  of  Nero.  It  is  not  enough  that  a  man  be  con¬ 
scientious.  He  may  be  conscientious  and  self-conceited ;  in 
that  case  he  will  be  exacting  and  despotic,  making  his  own 
conscience  a  law  for  all  his  neighbors.  He  may  be  con¬ 
scientious  and  approbative ;  in  that  case  he  will  be  weak, 
afraid,  and  always  tormented  lest  he  has  not  done  what  to 
his  neighbors  will  seem  to  be  right.  He  may  be  conscien¬ 
tious  without  faith  ;  in  that  case  he  will  be  constantly  led 
into  false  judgments  by  a  tendency  to  measure  the  moral 
quality  of  every  act  by  its  immediate  effect.  He  may  have  a 
merely  retroactive  conscience ;  in  that  case  he  will  fail  to 
look  forward  and  prepare  for  what  he  is  to  do  by  measuring 
proposed  action  by  the  standard  of  right  and  wrong;  he  will 
be  habitually  looking  back  and  tormenting  himself,  and  per¬ 
haps  others  as  well,  by  perpetually  trying  himself  for  actions 
past  and  beyond  recall.  He  may  use  his  conscience  not  as 


54 


A  STUDY  IN  HUMAN  NATURE. 


the  restraining  motive  of  his  life,  but  as  the  impelling  motive, 
not  as  the  governor,  but  as  the  steam ;  in  that  case  he  will 
have  nothing  of  the  joy  of  the  perfect  love  which  casteth  out 
fear,  but  will  always  act  under  the  spur  of  necessity,  never  in 
the  freedom  of  those  who  through  faith  and  love  have  entered 
into  the  liberty  of  the  sons  of  God.  It  is  not  enough  to  have 
a  conscience,  and  a  masterful  conscience ;  it  must  be  a  good 
conscience  ;  a  conscience  that  forecasts  ;  that  acts  in  restrain¬ 
ing  rather  than  in  impelling  ;  that  is  instructed  by  faith,  not 
by  sight ;  that  is  united  to  benevolence  rather  than  to  appro- 
bativeness  and  self-esteem. 

2.  Reverence.  There  is  in  man  an  instinct  inclined  to 
look  up,  to  admire,  to  reverence.  Something  akin  to  it, 
something  certainly  illustrative  of  it,  is  seen  in  the  apparent 
mental  attraction  of  the  best  and  most  intelligent  dogs  toward 
their  masters.  But  in  the  brute  it  is  apparently  dependent 
largely  on  physical  services  rendered  and  on  fear.  It  is  seen 
in  man  in  various  forms  in  the  social  organism,  and  is  in  one 
sense  a  social  instinct,  as  also  is  conscience.  But  in  its  higher 
manifestations  it  is  essentially  both  human  and  spiritual.  It 
is  the  basis  of  all  wonder,  admiration,  awe,  reverence.*  It  is 
the  foundation  of  that  awe  which  we  feel  in  the  presence  of 
the  great  and  sublime  in  nature:  the  vast  wilderness,  the 
towering  mountain,  the  starry  heavens.  Fear  sometimes,  but 
by  no  means  always,  enters  into  its  existence  ;  the  two 
emotions  are  indeed  often  in  absolute  contrast,  so  that  one 
hardly  knows  whether  to  fear  or  to  rejoice.  It  enters  into 
our  experience  of  admiration  of  human  handiwork,  in  art, 
mechanics,  architecture.  It  is  the  basis  of  social  distinctions, 
especially  as  they  are.  seen  in  countries  where  hereditary 
classes  exist,  and  the  lower  class  is  habituated  to  looking  up 
to  the  class  above  it,  where  looking  up  is  as  easy  and  as  natural 

*  The  phrenologists  recognize  two  faculties,  one  of  reverence,  the  other  of  marvel¬ 
ousness.  This  seems  to  me  a  needless  and  doubtful  distinction.  Essentially  and  at  root 
they  are  the  same. 


THE  SPIRITUAL  IMPULSES.  55 


as  for  an  American  to  look  off.  It  is  the  instinct  of  the  child 
toward  the  parent,  making  it  easy  for  the  one  to  obey  and 
the  other  to  enforce  the  command,  “  Honor  thy  father  and 
thy  mother,”  a  command  often  read  as  though  it  were,  what 
it  is  not,  Obey  thy  father  and  mother.  It  is  seen  in  every 
form  and  phase  of  worship.  It  impels  men  every- where  to  a 
belief  in  some  superior  Being,  known  or  unknown,  imagined 
or  unimagined,  but  deserving  and  demanding  and  receiving 
reverence.  It  exhibits  itself  alike  in  the  devotee  bowing  be¬ 
fore  his  hideous  image  in  his  magnificent  Hindu  temple,  in 
the  Friend  lifting  up  his  heart  in  silent  adoration  to  the  in¬ 
visible  Spirit,  and  in  the  spirit  of  wonder  and  of  awe  with 
which  the  seemingly  undevout  scientist  approaches  the  con¬ 
fines  of  the  visible  world  and  looks  off  and  seeks  to  fathom 
the  beyond,  and  returns  shaking  his  head  in  intellectual  de¬ 
spair,  saying  it  is  the  Unknown  and  the  Unknowable.  It  is 
ignored  by  atheists,  and  therefore  atheism  has  never  made 
many  converts,  and  never  can.  It  is  an  essential  and  inde¬ 
structible  principle  of  human  nature. 

But  this  faculty  is  no  more  free  from  dangerous  propensities 
than  the  lower  social  and  industrial  impulses.  It  is  as  dan¬ 
gerous  when  ill-educated  and  misdirected  as  acquisitiveness 
or  self-esteem.  If  for  lack  of  it  men  grow  skeptical,  infidel, 
atheistic  Godward  and  cynical  manward,  inclined  to  take 
low  views  of  man  and  none  at  all  of  God,  its  excess  leads  to 
idolatry  and  every  form  of  superstition,  to  worshiping  the 
unworshipful  and  reverencing  that  which  is  not  venerable. 
Mated  to  conscience  and  self-esteem  it  produces  bigotry ; 
un instructed  by  faith  it  begets  idolatry  or  the  worship  of  the 
visible,  and  therefore  the  unreal ;  combined  with  fear  it 
begets  superstition,  the  worship  not  of  what  is  to  be  vener¬ 
ated,  but  of  what  is  to  be  dreaded. 

3.  Benevolence.  By  benevolence  is  meant  the  impulse 
which  leads  its  possessor  to  wish  well  to  all  other  beings.  It 
is  an  innate,  not  an  acquired,  quality  of  the  mind.  It  exists 


56 


A  STUD  Y  IN  HUMAN  NA  TURE. 


in  all  men,  though  in  many  buried  and  almost  destroyed  by 
the  pre-eminence  of  other  faculties.  It  has  its  weak  side 
and  its  defects.  Uninstructed  by  faith  it  desires  merely  the 
happiness,  not  the  welfare  of  men,  and  sacrifices  without  hes¬ 
itation  their  real  and  permanent  good  for  their  apparent  and 
present  pleasure.  Mated  to  approbativeness  it  becomes  a 
mere  instinct  or  impulse  of  good  nature.  Unregulated  by 
conscience  it  is  indiscriminating,  a  mawkish  and  morbid  sen¬ 
timentality.  But  it  is  of  all  the  impulses  the  one  whose 
vices  are  the  least  dangerous,  and  whose  virtues  are  the  most 
beneficent  to  mankind.  Coupled  with  veneration,  and  look¬ 
ing  up  to  a  superior,  especially  to  God,  it  redeems  worship 
from  fear,  and  makes  it  ennobling,  elevating,  purifying. 
Looking  upon  suffering,  it  is  pity  ;  looking  upon  sin,  it  is 
mercy;  looking  upon  the  well-being  of  the  whole  community 
needing  protection  from  sin,  it  is  justice.  As  an  emotion,  it 
is  sympathy;  it  weeps  with  those  that  weep,  it  rejoices  with 
those  that  rejoice.  As  a  principle  of  action,  it  seeks  the 
greatest  good  of  the  greatest  number.  It  combines  with  the 
social  instinct  to  make  the  family  of  man  more  than  the  nest 
of  birds,  society  more  than  an  ant-hill  or  a  bee-hive.  It  is 
the  secret  of  patriotism  in  the  State,  and  is  that  love  which  is 
the  bond  of  perfectness  in  the  Church.  It  is  the  queen  of 
the  soul,  and  he  only  is  truly  healthy  whose  whole  nature  is 
obedient  to  love — whose  acquisitiveness  gathers  for  it,  whose 
combativeness  and  destructiveness  battle  for  it,  whose  cau¬ 
tion  fears  for  its  wounding,  whose  conscience  is  made  tender 
and  sympathetic  by  it,  and  whose  reverence  is  made  fearless 
and  filial  and  joyous  by  it.  It  is  incapable  of  analysis  ;  and 
no  description  which  has  ever  been  penned  of  it  can  com¬ 
pare  for  intelligent  comprehensiveness  and  spiritual  beauty 
to  Paul’s  psalm  of  praise  to  it  in  the  thirteenth  chapter  of 
I  Corinthians :  “  Love  suffereth  long,  and  is  kind ;  love 
envieth  not ;  love  vaunteth  not  itself,  is  not  puffed  up,  doth 
not  behave  itself  unseemly,  seeketh  not  its  own,  is  not  pro- 


THE  SPIRITUAL  IMPULSES. 


57 


voked,  taketh  not  account  of  evil;  rejoiceth  not  in  unright¬ 
eousness  but  rejoiceth  with  the  truth  ;  beareth  all  things,  be- 
lieveth  all  things,  hopeth  all  things,  endureth  all  things.” 

4.  Phrenologists  add  to  the  impulses  thus  far  given  several 
others,  the  two  most  important  being  hope  and  firmness. 
These  seem  to  me  to  be  rather  qualities  than  faculties;  not 
so  much  impulses  to  do  particular  things  as  a  spirit  or  habit 
which  modifies  the  method  of  doing  all  things.  Hope  gives 
vigor  of  plan,  firmness  gives  continuity  of  purpose  ;  the  one 
makes  radiant,  the  other  makes  strong.  Neither  are  simple 
or  primary  passions.  Both  are  capable  of  analysis.  Hope 
is  desire  and  expectation  commingled.  What  a  man  desires 
but  does  not  expect,  he  does  not  hope  for ;  what  he  expects 
but  does  not  desire,  he  does  not  hope  for  ;  what  he  both 
desires  and  expects,  he  hopes  for.  His  expectation  may  be 
rational  or  irrational ;  his  hope  is  accordingly  well  or  ill 
grounded.  Firmness  is  vigor  and  persistency  combined.  It 
is  persistence  of  force.  Vigor  without  persistence  produces 
dash  and  impetuosity;  persistence  without  vigor  produces 
inertia.  Health  of  body  has  much  to  do  with  both  qualities. 
Certain  diseases  invariably  produce  despondency.  Certain 
physical  weaknesses  invariably  produce  more  or  less  vacilla¬ 
tion  of  purpose.  Consciousness  of  power  has  much  to  do 
with  both  qualities.  The  man  who  is  conscious  of  his  own 
resources  will  be  hopeful  of  results  when  all  around  him  axe 
in  despair;  he  will  be  persistent  in  his  purpose  when  all 
about  him  are  discouraged  and  ready  to  retreat.  He  may 
be  hopeful  and  firm  in  certain  directions,  despondent  and 
vacillating  in  others ;  firm  where  conscience  is  concerned, 
and  weak  where  self-interest  is  concerned;  firm  in  protect¬ 
ing  the  interests  of  others,  and  weak  inprotecting  his  own, 
or  mce  versa.  Whether,  however,  hope  and  firmness  be  re¬ 
garded  as  impulses,  or  as  temperamental  conditions  affecting 
all  the  impulses,  they  must  certainly  be  taken  into  account 
in  any  study  of  human  nature. 

8* 


53 


A  STUDY  IN  HUMAN  NAT  UAH. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  ACQUISITIVE  POWERS. 

I.  The  Senses  and  the  Supersensuous. 

What  are  very  generally  called  the  Intellectual  Powers 
I  call  the  Acquisitive  Powers,  because  among  them  is  a 
power  which  is  more  and  higher  than  the  Intellect ;  which 
at  all  events  it  is  wise  for  us  to  distinguish  from  the  Intel¬ 
lectual,  as  that  phrase  is  ordinarily  used. 

1.  The  Senses.  There  are  five  of  these:  sight,  hearing, 
smell,  taste,  and  touch.  Some  philosophers  have,  indeed, 
undertaken  to  show  that  all  the  senses  are  only  refined  and 
subtle  forms  of  the  sense  of  touch :  invisible  ether  striking 
the  eye,  waves  of  air  striking  the  tympanum  of  the  ear,  fra¬ 
grant  emissions  touching  the  delicate  nerve  of  the  nose,  and 
subtle  qualities  in  the  food  coming  in  contact  with  the  nerves 
of  the  palate.  But  for  all  practical  purposes  the  old  distinc¬ 
tion  between  the  five  senses  may  be  accepted  as  satisfactory. 
Nor  do  these  five  senses  require  any  explanation.  We  are 
all  measurably  familiar  with  them  and  their  exercise. 

2.  The  Sensuous  Faculties.  With  these  senses  are  con¬ 
nected  sensuous  faculties  which  receive  and  appropriate  and 
appreciate  the  various  facts  brought  to  the  knowledge  of 
the  mind  by  the  senses.  We  not  only  perceive  the  outer 
world,  we  appreciate  qualities  in  it  which  the  senses  them¬ 
selves  know  nothing  of.  Thus  a  man  on  horseback  emerges 
from  a  forest  upon  the  top  of  a  high  hill,  and  both  look  off 
upon  the  prospect  of  the  valley  below.  The  same  picture  is 
impressed  on  the  retina  of  both  beast  and  man,  but  the  same 
emotion  and  intellectual  life  is  not  awakened  in  both.  There 
are  in  the  rider  faculties  which  perceive  in  the  beauty  of  the 


THE  ACQUISITIVE  POWERS. 


59 


view  that  which  is  unperceived  and  unperceivable  by  the 
horse.  Men  are  said  to  have  or  to  lack  an  ear  for  music; 
the  ear  itself  is  struck  by  the  same  sound  waves,  and  the 
same  impression  is  made  on  the  auditory  nerve  of  both,  but 
the  one  receives  what  the  other  does  not  and  cannot  receive. 
So  two  men  may  look  at  the  same  picture,  and  see  it  with 
equal  distinctness,  but  the  one  who  has  an  eye  for  art  will 
perceive  in  it  much  which  the  other,  who  has  no  eye  for  art, 
fails  to  perceive.  I  shall  not  enter  into  any  elaborate  anal¬ 
ysis  of  the  sensuous  faculties,  nor  into  the  discussion  which 
has  been  waged  concerning  them.  It  is  enough  for  my  pur¬ 
pose  in  this  treatise  to  point  out  the  more  evident  ones. 
These  are  time,  space,  weight,  color,  and  tune.  The  pow¬ 
ers  which  recognize  these  qualities  or  realities  are  pecul¬ 
iarly  human.  Their  recognition  is  very  dim,  if  it  exists  at 
all,  in  the  brute  creation  ;  it  is  very  clear  and  absolutely 
necessary  in  man.  We  are  compelled  to  think  of  all  events 
as  occurring  in  time,  and  having  a  certain  time  relation  to 
each  other,  as  being  past,  present,  or  future,  as  occurring 
before  or  after.  We  are  compelled,  too,  to  think  of  them  as 
occurring  in  space,  and  as  having  certain  relations  of  locality 
to  each  other,  as  being  above  or  below,  on  this  side  or  that, 
in  this  locality  or  another  locality.  Whether  time  and  space 
are  intuitive  perceptions,  or  laws  of  thought  binding  upon  us 
which  compel  us  to  think  of  things  in  these  relations,  or  re¬ 
sults  of  observation  and  experience,  it  is  not  necessary  for  us 
here  to  inquire.  In  point  of  fact  the  recognition  of  both 
time  and  space  are  absolutely  universal;  the  power  of  recog¬ 
nizing  them  exists,  however  its  existence  may  be  explained. 
The  same  thing  must  be  said  of  weight,  number,  color,  and 
time.  We  have  the  power  of  discriminating  substances  not 
merely  by  their  form,  that  is,  the  space  they  occupy,  but  also 
by  their  weight  or  tendency  to  fall  toward  the  center  of  the 
earth.  We  have  a  power  of  recognizing  numbers,  of  per¬ 
ceiving  the  difference  between  one  and  more,  of  knowing  the 


6o 


A  STUDY  IN  HUMAN  NATUDE. 


relations  between  these  various  numbers,  and  of  working  out 
of  that  power  of  perception  the  whole  science  of  numbers  in 
all  its  branches.  We  have  the  power  of  distinguishing 
colors,  and  appreciating  what  we  call  beauty  of  color,  that  is, 
the  combinations  of  color  which  tend  to  produce  pleasure 
through  the  eye  on  the  mind.  We  perceive  in  certain  com¬ 
binations  of  sounds  an  effect  which  we  call  musical.  More¬ 
over,  these  powers  differ  very  greatly  in  different  men,  and 
seem  capable  of  still  further  analysis.  In  tune  there  are  a 
variety  of  effects  which  seem  to  differ  in  kind  as  well  as  in 
degree,  and  the  capability  to  produce  or  to  enjoy  these  differ¬ 
ent  effects,  respectively  produce  different  schools  in  music, 
each  having  its  own  peculiar  and  characteristic  appreciation. 
To  these  should  be  added  the  faculty  of  language,  a  faculty 
quite  peculiar  to  man,  and  differing  very  widely  in  different 
races  and  in  different  individuals  of  the  same  race. 

3.  The  Super  sensuous  Faculty.  We  have  arrived  at  a  part¬ 
ing  of  the  ways.  That  there  is  any  supersensuous  faculty 
much  of  modern  philosophy  positively  denies  ;  the  existence 
of  such  a  faculty  still  more  of  modern  philosophy  ignores. 
All  forms  of  modern  skepticism  have  a  common  philosoph¬ 
ical  foundation.  Their  philosophy  denies  that  we  can  know 
any  thing  except  that  which  we  learn  through  the  senses  di¬ 
rectly,  or  through  conclusions  deduced  from  the  senses.  We 
know  that  there  is  a  sun  because  we  see  it ;  we  know  ap¬ 
proximately  its  weight  and  its  distance  from  the  earth,  be¬ 
cause  by  long  processes  of  reasoning  we  reach  conclusions 
on  those  subjects  from  phenomena  which  we  do  see.  What 
we  do  not  thus  see,  or  hear,  or  touch,  or  taste,  or  smell,  or 
thus  conclude  from  what  we  have  seen,  or  heard,  or  touched, 
or  tasted,  or  smelled,  is  said  to  belong  to  the  unknown  and 
unknowable.  This  is  the  basis  of  modern  skepticism.  It  is 
the  basis,  too,  of  much  of  modern  theology.  It  is  the  secret 
of  the  “  scientific  method.'’  By  this  method  we  conclude  the 
existence  of  an  invisible  God  from  the  phenomena  of  life  ex- 


THE  ACQUISITIVE  TO  WEES. 


6i 


actly  as  we  conclude  the  existence  of  an  invisible  ether  from 
the  phenomena  of  light.  But  the  God  thus  deduced  is  like 
the  ether,  only  an  hypothesis.  It  is  quite  legitimate  to  offer 
a  new  hypothesis  ;  and  the  scientist  will  be  as  ready  to  accept 
one  hypothesis  as  another,  provided  it  accounts  for  the  phe¬ 
nomena.  This  philosophy,  pursued  to  its  legitimate  and  log¬ 
ical  conclusion,  issues  in  the  denial  that  man  is  a  religious 
being;  or  possesses  a  spiritual  nature  ;  or  is  any  thing  more 
than  a  highly  organized  and  developed  animal. 

Over  against  this  philosophy  of  human  nature  I  set  here 
the  doctrine  that  man  possesses  a  supersensuous  faculty.* 
By  a  supersensuous  faculty  I  mean  a  power  to  see  the  in¬ 
visible  and  hear  the  inaudible;  a  sixth  sense;  a  spiritual 
perception ;  a  capacity  to  take  direct  and  immediate  cogni¬ 
tion  of  a  world  lying  wholly  without  the  dominion  of  the 
senses.  A  man  hopelessly  blind  might  well  conclude  that 
there  is  such  a  phenomenon  as  color  from  the  testimony  of 
his  friends.  A  man  wholly  deaf  might  well  conclude  that 
there  was  a  phenomenon  of  sound  from  merely  observing  its 
effects  on  others.  But  the  phenomena  of  sight  are  directly 
and  immediately  perceived  by  the  eye  ;  they  are  not  ordina¬ 
rily  derived  from  observation  made  only  by  the  ear.  So  I 
suppose  the  facts  or  phenomena  of  the  spiritual  life  are 
directly  and  immediately  perceived  by  the  spiritual  sense  ; 
they  are  not  derived  from  observation  made  by  the  other 
senses. V  The  spirit  has  its  eye  and  its  ear.  This  power 
in  art  and  literature  is  called  the  imagination,  fancy,  ideality ; 
its  productions  are  called  creations.  In  religion  it  is  called 
faith.  There  is  no  better  definition  of  it  than  that  afforded 
by  the  author  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  :  “  Faith  is  the 
substance  of  things  hoped  for,  the  evidence  of  things  not 
seen.”  f  That  is,  it  is  the  faculty  or  power  which  gives  us 

*  Not  as  thougjh  it  were  in  any  sense  a  new  doctrine  ;  it  is  older  than  Plato,  and  has 
never  been  without  its  representatives  and  advocates  in  philosophical  thought. 

t  Hebrews  xi,  i. 


62 


A  STUDY  IN  HUMAN  NA  TURK. 


knowledge  of  the  invisible  realities  of  life.  Religion  does  not 
depend  upon  a  “  scientific  method.”  God  is  not  an  hypothe-^ 


sis.  He  is  known  directly  and  immediately  by  spiritual  con¬ 
tact,  spiritual  perception. 


This  power  of  direct  perception  of  a  world  beyond  the 
senses  is  seen  in  all  great  inventors.  It  is  the  prophetic 
faculty,  and  the  secret  of  all  progress.  Morse  sees  the  tele¬ 
graph  wires  carrying  his  messages  over  a  continent  before 
a  pole  has  been  set  in  the  ground.  Stephenson  sees  England 
covered  with  a  net-work  of  railway  before  a  rail  has  been 
laid.  The  architect  sees  his  cathedral  in  the  mind  before  a 
stone  is  put  to  rest  in  its  bed  of  mortar.  In  all  these  and 
kindred  cases  the  invisible  is  seen  before  it  becomes  visible  ; 
the  supersensuous  sense  perceives  it  before  it  can  be  made 
apparent  to  the  slower  appreciation  of  the  senses.  It  is  the 
power  which  underlies  all  art,  literature,  oratory.  To  imitate 
whether  a  greensward  or  a  silk  dress  is  not  art ;  as  to  declaim 
whether  Marco  Bozzaris  or  Hamlet  is  not  oratory.  Art  is  essen¬ 
tially  creative.  It  brings  out  of  the  invisible  world  invisible 
realities,  and  so  presents  them  that  the  dull  eyes  and  ears  of 
the  unspiritual  can  perceive  them.  The  artist  sees  his  pict¬ 
ure  before  he  paints  it,  and  if  he  be  a  true  artist  always  sees 
a  nobler  picture  than  he  paints.  He  copies  from  an  invisible 
canvas.  The  author  sees  the  truth  which  he  endeavors,  al¬ 
ways  with  imperfection,  to  express;  and  beneath  his  dead 
body  of  a  book  there  beats  a  living  soul  which  looks  out 
through  its  pages  as  the  soul  looks  out  through  the  eyes  into 
the  windows  of  another  soul.  This  living  soul  he  sees  and 
knows  just  as  clearly  before  as  after  he  has  given  it  a  body. 
The  orator,  more  dimly  but  as  truly,  sees  the  truth  which  he 
endeavors  to  carry  away  captive  from  its  shadowy  land,  and 
his  power  over  his  audience  lies  in  his  power  to  interpret  to 
their  senses  and  through  their  senses  what  he  had  before 
seen  and  grasped  by  his  supersensuous  faculty,  his  spiritual 
perception,  his  faith-power.  These  invisible  realities  thus 


THE  ACQUISITIVE  TOM^EES. 


63 


seen  by  the  soul’s  sense  are  not  mere  copies  of  something 
which  the  eye  has  seen  before  ;  they  are  not  memories,  nor 
mere  new  combinations  of  objects  familiar  to  the  senses. 
They  belong  to  another  world.  The  artist,  the  author,  the 
orator  is  a  true  translator  into  sensuous  forms  of  supersensu- 
ous  realities,  and  always  views  his  best  work  with  a  sense  of 
dissatisfaction,  knowing  that  no  sensuous  forces  are  adequate 
to  expound  to  men  who  live  in  the  senses  what  he  has  seen 
and  known.  He  is  ready  to  exclaim  with  Jesus  :  “  We  speal^ 
that  we  do  know,  and  testify  that  we  have  seen;  and  ye  re¬ 
ceive  not  our  witness.”  In  still  higher  forms  evidence  of 
this  supersensuous  faculty  is  seen  in  all  our  social  and  do¬ 
mestic  life.  Our  business,  our  government,  our  society,  our 
homes,  are  all  built  upon  it.  Without  it  they  must  dissolve 
and  humanity  go  back  to  barbarism  and  anarchy.  All  mod¬ 
ern  commerce  is  dependent  on  the  reality  and  the  incalcu¬ 
lable  .value  of  honor,  humanity,  integrity ;  qualities  not  seen, 
not  easily  demonstrable  by  a  ‘‘scientific  method,”  but  recog¬ 
nized  by  all  men  who  possess  them  and  imitated  by  many 
who  do  not.  Justice,  truth,  honor,  fidelity,  courage,  patriot¬ 
ism,  are  all  intangible,  invisible  qualities.  They  are  not 
seen ;  they  are  not  deduced  from  the  seen ;  they  are  instant¬ 
ly  and  immediately  recognized  as  realities  by  the  supersen¬ 
suous  sense.  Their  value  is  depreciated  or  ignored  by  sen¬ 
sual  men.  They  are  qualities  unrecognized  by  the  brute. 
This  faith-power  is  the  recognized  life  of  the  home  circle, 
and  of  all  friendships  and  fellowships.  The  love  of  a  mother 
for  her  child  is  different  from  the  love  of  a  bird  for  its  young, 
or  a  cow  for  its  calf.  The  love  of  husband  and  wife  for  each 
other  is  more  than  an  animal  instinct.  The  tie  which  binds 
friends  together  is  not  sensuous.  Identity  is  not  in  the  feat¬ 
ures.  What  we  love  is  the  inward,  the  soul,  the  mental  and 
moral  qualities,  the  patience,  gentleness,  forbearance,  long- 
suffering  love,  the  invisible  manhood  and  womanhood  within, 
which  the  eye  does  not  see,  which  the  reason  does  not  dem- 


A  STUDY  IN  HUMAN  NATUTE. 


onstrate,  which  are  not  hypothetical,  which  are  not  ascer¬ 
tained  by  any  “scientific  method,”  but  which  are  instantly 
and  directly  and  immediately  perceived  by  the  power  of 
spiritual  perception  which  resides  in  every  spirit. 

Butin  its  highest  manifestations  this  supersensuous  faculty 
is  seen  in  the  religious  life.  It  is  the  power  which  the  Bible 
calls  faith.  Faith  is  not  an  intellectual  activity  deducing  con¬ 
clusions  from  premises;  it  is  not  an  act  of  the  will  or  an  im¬ 
pulse  of  the  affections,  though  it  inspires  both.  It  is  a  spiritual 
perception  “  the  substance  of  things  hoped  for,  the  evidence 
of  things  not  seen.”  By  this  we  perceive  the  Spirit  of  God 
behind  all  nature  and  immanent  in  all  nature,  as  we  perceive 
the  spirit  of  a  man  behind  the  body  and  immanent  in  the 
body.  Neither  are  hypotheses  to  account  for  phenomena ; 
both  are  facts  instantly  and  immediately  perceived.  This  is 
the  power  of  which  Paul  writes  when  he  says,  “  We  look  not 
at  the  things  which  are  seen,  but  at  the  things  which  are  not 
seen.”  This  is  what  he  generally  means  by  the  word  know : 
“  we  know  that  the  law  is  spiritual ;  ”  “  we  know  that  all  things 
work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love  God ;  ”  “  I  know 
whom  I  have  believed.”  In  these  and  kindred  passages  he 
speaks  not  of  conclusions  reached  by  a  “  scientific  method,” 
but  of  facts  realized  by  a  spiritual  experience.  It  is  to  the 
contrast  between  the  sensuous  and  the  supersensuous,  be¬ 
tween  faith  and  sight,  that  Christ  refers  when  he  promises  to 
his  disciples  another  Comforter  whom  the  world  cannot  re¬ 
ceive,  because  it  seeth  him  not,  neither  knoweth  (hath  experi¬ 
ence  of )  him  ;  “  but  ye  know  him,  because  he  dwelleth  with 
you^  and  shall  be  in  you.''  It  is  to  this  spiritual  sense,  dormant 
in  even  the  most  unspiritual  natures,  that  Paul  refers  when  in 
Athens  he  classes  himself  sympathetically  with  his  pagan 
audience,  saying,  “  In  him  we  live,  and  move,  and  have  our 
being.”  This  faith-power  is  the  illuminating  and  transform¬ 
ing  power  of  the  soul.  It  is  that  whereby  God  enters  it  and 
makes  it  his  own.  It  is  that  whereby  each  faculty  is  lifted 


THE  ACQUISITIVE  POWERS. 


65 


up  from  a  mere  earthly  and  sensuous  activity.  By  faith  love 
is  converted  from  a  mere  wish  for  happiness  into  a  wish  for 
true  welfare ;  reverence  is  changed  from  image  worship 
to  spiritual  worship ;  conscience  is  able  to  measure  the 
issues  of  right  and  wrong  by  their  intrinsic  and  spiritual 
nature,  not  by  the  anticipated  consequences  of  action ;  the 
parental  instinct  is  lifted  above  a  mere  animal  propensity, 
and  is  made  to  become  a  guide  to  God  and  a  guardian  for 
eternity ;  and  the  very  appetites  and  passions  are  made  to 
minister  to  the  higher,  the  internal,  the  spiritual  nature. 


66 


A  STUDY  IN  HUMAN  NA  TURK. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  ACQUISITIVE  POWERS. 

II.  The  Reflective  Faculties. 

Man  possesses  not  merely  the  power  to  gather  both  from 
the  outer  and  visible  and  from  the  inner  and  invisible  world, 
a  power  both  of  sensuous  and  supersensuous  observation  ;  he 
possesses  also  a  power  of  classifying  and  arranging  the  results 
of  his  observation,  of  observing  resemblances  and  contrasts, 
and  of  drawing  conclusions  from  them.  This  he  does  by  the 
reflective  faculties,  or  what  is  in  popular  language  called  the 
reason.  Formerly  it  was  supposed  that  the  animals  did  not 
possess  this  power.  A  more  careful  and  candid  observation 
has  brought  scientific  men  to  the  conclusion  that  the  higher 
animals — notably  the  dog,  the  horse,  and  the  elephant — also 
reflect,  consider,  weigh,  judge,  compare;  in  a  word,  reason, 
though  to  a  very  limited  extent  and  within  very  narrow 
bounds.  The  contrast  between  the  animals  and  man  is  not 
that  man  possesses  reflective  faculties  and  the  animals  do 
not,  but  that  man  possesses  apparently  an  unlimited  capacity 
of  developing  both  these  and  other  faculties,  while  the  limits 
are  very  soon  reached  in  the  animal ;  and  man  possesses  the 
spiritual  faculties — the  supersensuous  faculty  of  faith  and  the 
spiritual  impulses  of  conscience,  reverence,  and  love — in  a 
high  degree,  while  they  are  either  entirely  wanting  in  the 
brute,  or  exist  only  in  the  most  rudimentary  forms.  For 
convenience  of  analysis  the  reflective  faculties  may  be  di¬ 
vided  into  two,  the  Logical  faculty  and  the  Comparative  fac¬ 
ulty,  or  causality  and  comparison. 

I.  It  does  not  make  much  practical  difference  whether  we 
say  that  man  possesses  a  faculty  by  which  he  perceives  the 


THE  ACQUISITIVE  POWERS. 


67 


relation  of  cause  and  effect,  or  that  he  is  under  a  mental  law 
which  compels  him  to  think  of  all  phenomena  as  in  the  rela¬ 
tion  of  cause  and  effect,  or  that  the  truth  that  every  effect 
must  have  a  cause  and  every  cause  an  effect  is  intuitively 
and  immediately  perceived  by  him,  or  that  the  relation  of 
cause  and  effect  has  been  perceived  by  observation  and  ex¬ 
perience  through  so  many  generations  that  he  has  come  to 
expect  an  effect  from  every  cause  and  a  cause  for  every 
effect  as  the  result  of  generations  of  experience.  He  not 
only  possesses  the  power,  he  is  laid  under  a  necessity  of  per¬ 
ceiving  this  relation,  a  relation  perceived  but  dimly  if  at  all 
by  the  mere  animal.  This  is  the  power  which  leads  the  child 
to  ask  why.,  and  the  man  to  say  therefore.  It  is  the  power 
which  frames  syllogisms,  and  is  compelled  to  accept  the 
conclusion  if  the  premises  be  granted.  It  is  the  power 
which  leads  the  farmer  when  he  sees  a  pile  of  upheaved 
earth  in  his  garden  to  conclude  that  a  mole  has  burrowed 
there  ;  which  induces  the  explorer  when  he  discovers  the 
earth-mounds  in  Ohio  or  the  cliff-dwellings  in  Colorado  to 
conclude  that  man  has  been  there  before  him;  which  compels 
men  every-where,  seeing  the  marvelous  mechanism  of  nature 
by  which  he  is  surrounded  and  in  which  he  dwells,  to  be 
sure  that  some  First  Great  Cause  has  called  it  forth.  This  is 
the  power  which  guides  man  in  his  search,  whether  it  be  the 
search  of  the  farmer  for  the  hiding  mole,  the  antiquarian  for 
the  lost  race,  or  the  philosopher  for  an  unknown  God.  It  is 
this  power  which  enables  us  to  trace  sequence  in  nature,  in 
history,  in  human  experience  ;  which  enables  us  to  see  that 
phenomena  are  not  isolated  and  accidental,  but  every  fact  is 
a  link  in  an  endless  chain.  The  exercise  of  this  faculty  upon 
numbers  gives  us  the  higher  mathematics,  exercised  upon 
visible  phenomena  it  produces  science,  upon  mental  experi¬ 
ence  it  creates  history,  political  economy,  mental  and  moral 
philosophy.  Every  mechanic  relies  upon  it  when  he  builds 
his  engine  or  constructs  his  dam,  sure  that  the  same  cause 


68 


A  STUD  V  IN  HUMAN  NA  TURK. 


will  always  produce  the  same  effect;  every  artist  depends 
upon  it  when  he  mixes  his  colors,  certain  that  the  same  mix¬ 
ture  will  produce  the  same  shade,  and  the  same  touch  of  the 
brush  on  the  canvas  will  cause  the  same  effect ;  every  orator 
assumes  it,  consciously  or  unconsciously,  when  by  the  utter¬ 
ance  of  his  own  emotions  he  strives  to  awaken  the  emotions 
of  his  hearers,  or  by  the  process  of  reasoning  he  expects  to 
win  the  assent  of  their  judgment  to  his  own  conclusions.  It 
is,  indeed,  one  of  the  master  powers  of  man's  mind,  but  it  is 
not  the  master  power;  and  when  men  attempt  to  make  it  do 
the  work  of  the  supersensuous  faculty,  when  they  ignore  the 
.power  given  them  to  perceive  directly  and  immediately  the 
invisible  world,  and  attempt  in  lieu  of  exercising  that  faith- 
power  with  which  they  are  endowed  to  arrive  at  the  truth 
respecting  the  invisible  world  by  employing  the  logical  fac¬ 
ulty  upon  observed  phenomena,  the  result  is  always  a  ration¬ 
alism,  which,  whether  its  conclusions  be  orthodox  or  hetero¬ 
dox,  those  of  a  Bishop  Butler  or  those  of  a  John  Stuart  Mill,  is 
far  removed  from  that  spiritual  religion  which  is  founded  on 
experience,  not  on  deduction,  and  which  says  not,  I  conclude, 
I  think,  or  I  believe,  but  I  know. 

2.  But  while  the  relation  of  cause  and  effect  is  the  relation 
which  binds  phenomena  together,  there  are  other  relations 
than  those  of  cause  and  effect  which  the  mind  must  perceive 
in  order  that  it  may  classify  phenomena,  and  truly  apprehend 
their  meaning  and  value.  The  phrenologist  calls  this  faculty 
comparison,  a  name  which  seems  to  give  to  it  too  limited  a 
scope ;  and  yet  it  is  not  easy  to  suggest  for  popular  use  a  bet¬ 
ter  title.  By  this  power,  called  by  whatever  name,  man  per¬ 
ceives  both  differences  and  resemblances.  He  perceives  the 
vital  difference  between  a  whale  and  other  citizens  of  the 
ocean,  and  discovers  that  a  whale  is  not  a  fish ;  he  perceives 
the  resemblance  between  the  spark  of  electricity  and  the 
thunder-bolt,  and  out  of  this  perception  grows  all  electrical 
science;  he  perceives  the  resemblance  between  the  fall  of 


THE  ACQUISITIVE  TO  WEES. 


69 


an  apple  and  the  movement  of  the  earth,  and  out  of  this 
perception  grows  the  whole  science  of  modern  astronomy ; 
he  perceives  the  resemblance  between  man  and  the  animal, 
and  out  of  this  perception  grows  comparative  physiology. 
All  science  is  based  on  this  power;  all  eminent  scientists 
possess  it  in  an  eminent  degree,  and  employ  it  continuously, 
and  often  almost  unconsciously. 

But  this  is  by  no  means  its  only,  perhaps  not  even  its  chief, 
scope.  It  traces  resemblances  between  the  outer  and  the 
inner  world,  the  visible  and  the  invisible.  It  is  the  poet’s 
brush  and  the  orator’s,  whereby  they  cast  upon  their  canvas 
a  thousand  tropes  and  figures  and  metaphors.  All  language 
of  the  inward  life  employs  unconsciously  this  subtle  power  of 
perceiving  analogies.  “  He  is  frozen  with  horror ;  ”  “  he  is 
full  of  wrath;”  “he  is  struck  with  an  idea:”  these  and 
kindred  phrases  in  our  daily  conversation  are  all  based  upon 
the  possession  of  a  power  in  man  to  see  the  subtle  analogies 
between  spiritual  experience  and  external  phenomena.  These 
analogies  make  all  life  a  parable ;  this  power  makes  every 
man  in  some  measure  a  poet  and  a  prophet.  It  enters  largely 
into  all  imagination,  which  is  sometimes  indeed  the  direct 
perception  of  invisible  realities,  but  which  is  sometimes  also 
the  construction  of  new  images  by  the  power  which  perceives 
relations  before  unperceived,  and  brings  together  objects 
familar  in  forms  and  combinations  before  unknown.  The 
ancient  centaur  may  be  fairly  taken  to  illustrate  both  types 
of  imagination.  By  his  supersensuous  faculty,  his  faith-power, 
the  poet  saw  in  the  soul  of  man  the  strange  amalgam  between 
the  bestial  and  the  divine ;  this  was  no  visible  disclosure, 
no  logical  deduction  ;  it  was  a  spiritual  perception.  To  em¬ 
body  it  to  the  senses  of  others,  he  combined  the  head  and 
breast  of  a  man  with  the  body  of  a  horse,  an  unreal  combina¬ 
tion  of  real  things,  to  illustrate  a  real  but  invisible  combina¬ 
tion.  The  faculty  which  perceived  the  invisible  amalgam 
was  one,  the  faith  faculty.  The  faculty  which  framed  the 


70 


A  STUDY  IN  HUMAN  NA  TURK. 


visible  combination  was  another,  the  faculty  of  comparison. 
The  product  of  the  two  we  call  the  product  of  the  imagina¬ 
tion. 

This  same  faculty  lies  at  the  basis  of  all  wit  and  humor. 
Two  of  the  most  difficult  problems  of  mental  science  are: 
What  is  the  secret  of  the  beautiful .?  What  is  the  secret  of 
the  humorous .?  I  shall  not  enter  here  into  these  old  problems, 
still  less  attempt  to  solve  them.  It  is  enough  to  say  that  by 
a  general,  if  not  universal,  consent  the  foundation  of  botli 
wit  and  humor  is  a  sudden  and  unexpected  discovery  of 
either  a  disparity  or  a  resemblance.  Other  elements  enter 
into  it.  Not  every  such  unexpected  and  sudden  discovery 
produces  a  tendency  to  laugh.  But  it  may  safely  be  said  that 
the  faculty  of  comparison  is  always  called  into  play  in  every 
ebullition  of  wit  and  humor,  and  that  those  whose  faculty  of 
comparison  is  either  feeble  or  slow  to  act  are  never  quick  to 
take  a  joke,  and  rarely  greatly  enjoy  it. 


ATTENTION,  MEMORY,  WILL. 


71 


CHAPTER  XL 
ATTENTION,  MEMORY,  WILL. 

There  are  three  other  mental  powers  which  are  sometimes 
treated  as  separate  faculties,  attention^  7nemory.,  and  will.  I 
do  not  so  treat  them  here  for  the  same  reason  that  I  have  not 
treated  hope  and  firmness  as  separate  motive  powers.  Atten¬ 
tion  and  memory  are  rather  mental  habits  than  mental  facul¬ 
ties,  and  will  is  the  power  which  reigns  over  all  the  faculties ; 
it  is  the  personality,  the  individuality,  which,  so  to  speak,  ad¬ 
ministers  the  whole  kingdom. 

I.  Attention  is  a  habit  or  power  of  concentration,  which 
may  characterize  one  faculty  or  another,  or  all  combined.  It 
is,  however,  usually  a  concentration  for  the  time  of  all  the  soul’s 
powers  upon  a  single  faculty,  and  is  generally  proportioned  to 
earnestness  of  desire.  The  merchant  finds  no  difficulty  in  con¬ 
centrating  attention  upon  the  business  of  his  counting-room  ; 
he  does  it  without  conscious  effort ;  but  when  he  has  returned 
home  in  the  evening,  it  is  with  the  greatest  difficulty  that  he 
concentrates  it  upon  a  book,  and  sometimes  reads  a  page  be¬ 
fore  he  discovers  that  his  mind  has  been  upon  the  business  of 
the  day,  not  upon  the  Shakespeare  in  his  hand.  So  a  college 
boy  easily  puts  his  whole  mind  upon  a  ball  game,  but  requires 
a  vigorous  act  of  the  will  to  fasten  it  upon  his  Cicero  or  his 
Homer.  The  secret  of  attention  is  interest,  and  when  the 
faculty  is  aroused  by  a  strong  motive  all  the  power  of  the 
soul  is  concentrated  on  the  problem  before  it  instantly  and  in¬ 
stinctively  and  without  an  effort.  The  mother  who  is  pray¬ 
ing  for  the  recovery  of  her  sick  child  does  not  find  herself 
troubled  by  the  wandering  thoughts  in  prayer  which  have 
been  the  bane  of  her  public  worship  so  frequently  in  church. 


72 


A  STUD  V  IN  HUMAN  NA  TUREI 


2.  As  attention  is  the  concentration  of  the  faculties  upon  a 
subject,  induced  by  strong  interest  in  it,  so  memory  is  the 
retroactive  action  of  each  faculty.  It  is  not  a  separate  fac¬ 
ulty,  as  though  the  powers  of  the  mind  gathered  truth  and 
the  memory  received  and  stored  it.  It  is  generally  propor¬ 
tioned  both  to  the  strength  of  the  particular  faculty  and  the 
interest  in  the  particular  subject.  A  man  who  has  a  well- 
developed  faculty  of  numbers  will  remember  dates ;  a  man 
who  has  a  well-developed  faculty  of  color  will  remember  the 
picture  which  another  has  forgotten.  One  mind  will  remem¬ 
ber  facts  and  principles,  another  words  and  localities.  Mr. 
Maurice  mentions  as  extraordinary  the  memory  of  his  sister 
for  the  fragrance  of  a  particular  flower  inhaled  in  her  child¬ 
hood  ;  but  his  memory  for  principles  is  evident  on  every  page 
of  his  published  works.  Joseph  Cook  will  repeat  with  almost 
verbal  accuracy  a  paragraph  read  months,  perhaps  years,  be¬ 
fore.  It  is  said  of  Henry  Ward  Beecher  that,  during  the 
revival  of  1856-7,  at  a  prayer-meeting  in  Burton’s  Old  The¬ 
ater,  he  declined  to  lead  the  congregation  in  the  Lord’s 
Prayer,  because  he  dared  not  trust  himself  to  repeat  it  with¬ 
out  the  book.  For  myself,  I  am  never  able  to  cite  an  author, 
or  quote  a  text  of  Scripture,  or  a  verse  of  a  familiar  poem, 
with  any  assurance  of  accuracy ;  but  I  can  go  to  my  library, 
take  down  the  book  where  I  have  seen  or  read  the  sentence 
I  wish  to  quote,  and  turn  to  it,  generally  at  once,  though 
years  have  elapsed  since  I  saw  it.  In  another  edition,  differ¬ 
ently  paged,  I  might  search  for  it  in  vain.  This  simple  illus¬ 
tration  may  suffice  to  make  clear  my  meaning,  if  not  to 
demonstrate  its  accuracy,  that  memory  is  simply  the  power 
of  a  faculty  to  retain  what  it  has  once  acquired,  or  repeat 
what  it  has  once  done ;  a  power  which  depends  usually,  if  not 
always,  upon  the  degree  of  interest  which  attached  to  the 
first  acquisition,  or  upon  the  force  which  attached  to  the 
first  action. 

3.  Into  the  question,  the  most  hotly  debated  of  all  ques- 


ATTENTION,  MEMORY,  WILL. 


73 


tions  in  mental  science,  of  the  freedom  of  the  will,  neither  the 
limits  of  this  little  treatise,  nor  my  object  in  writing  it,  allow 
me  to  enter.  But  certainly  any  study  of  human  nature  would 
be  fatally  defective  which  failed  to  afford  any  philosophical 
statement  concerning  the  will ;  nor  can  such  a  statement  be 
made  and  the  question  at  issue  between  the  two  great  schools, 
both  in  philosophy  and  theology,  be  ignored.  I  must  content 
myself  with  very  briefly  stating  the  difference  and  my  own 
conviction,  without  entering  into  any  argument  in  support  of 
the  one  position,  or  into  any  criticism  of  the  other. 

One  school  of  philosophy  holds  that  the  motive  powers 
heretofore  described  are  the  ultimate  facts  of  human  nature; 
that  man  is  made  up  of  these  powers ;  that  he  is  and  neces¬ 
sarily  must  be  governed  by  the  strongest  of  these  motives. 
The  argument  is  very  simple  and  not  easy  to  ansv/er.  Man 
must  be  governed  by  the  strongest  motive;  for  if  not,  then 
he  would  be  governed  by  some  other  motive,  which  would, 
therefore,  be  stronger  than  the  strongest,  which  is  absurd. 
This  is  the  philosophy,  psychologically  stated,  of  what  is 
known  as  the  Calvinistic  school  of  theology,  though  repudi¬ 
ated  now  by  many,  perhaps  by  a  majority  of  modern  Calvin¬ 
ists.  It  is  the  theory  also  of  a  large  school  of  modern 
scientists,  who  hold  that  mental  phenomena,  are  as  truly  sub- 
q’ect  to  undeviating  law  as  physical  phenomena,  and  that 
every  thought  and  emotion,  no  less  than  every  force  and 
phase  of  nature,  is  one  link  in  an  endless  and  never-to-be- 
broken  or  ended  chain.  In  this  view  the  will  is  only  the 
balance  of  the  faculties  and  the  preponderance  of  the  strong¬ 
est.  Philosophically  it  leaves  man  the  creature  of  an  inscru¬ 
table  fate.  Religiously  this  condition  is  escaped,  because 
religion  points  to  a  God  who  is  able,  by  a  direct  and  super¬ 
natural  intervention,  to  make  strong  the  conscience  and  the 
love,  which  are  by  nature  weak;  a  God  who  will  always  thus 
interpose  to  save  the  lost  from  his  own  undoing,  w-henever, 

overpowered  by  a  sense  of  his  hopelessness,  he  appeals  to 
4 


74 


A  STUD  Y  m  HUMAN  NA  TURE. 


his  Creator  and  Redeemer  for  that  divine  help  without 
which  he  never  can  choose  the  good  or  turn  away  from  the 
evil. 

The  other  school  of  philosophy  holds  that  man  himself  is 
more  than  all  the  motive  powers  within  him;  that  he  possesses 
what  has  been  called  a  self-originating  power  of  the  will ; 
that  his  will,  that  is,  he  himself,  his  personality,  the  ego 
wiiich  makes  him  a  free  moral  agent,  has  power  not  only  over 
things  external  to  him,  but  over  his  own  appetites,  desires,  in¬ 
clinations,  and  is  able  to  curb  the  one,  and  directly  or  indi¬ 
rectly  to  quicken  and  strengthen  the  other ;  that  he  domi¬ 
nates  himself ;  that  he  is  not  like  a  chip,  the  prey  of  f^very 
wind  or  wave,  nor  like  a  steam-ship,  controlled  by  its  own 
sails  and  its  own  engines ;  but  like  the  same  steam-ship  when 
sails  and  engines  are  controlled  by  a  master,  who  uses  them 
to  accomplish  successfully  his  predetermined  voyage. 

Which  of  these  views  of  human  nature  will  be  taken  by  the 
student  of  life  and  character  will  be  determined  largely  by  the 
question  whether  he  looks  upon  human  nature  from  the  outside 
or  the  inside.  If  he  observes  what  it  appears  to  do  when 
studied  by  the  “  scientific  method,”  or  determines  what  it  must 
be  presumed  to  do  from  considerations  derived  from  the¬ 
ories  of  man’s  nature,  God’s  nature,  and  the  divine  govern¬ 
ment,  he  will  tend  toward  the  Necessarian  theory  of  life.  If, 
on  the  other  hand,  he  looks  within,  takes  the  testimony  of 
his  own  consciousness  and  that  of  others,  and  believes 
the  witness  which  men  bear  to  their  own  interior  con¬ 
viction  of  freedom,  he  will  tend  toward  the  other  view. 
Samuel  Johnson  expressed  this  contrast  by  his  saying,  “  All 
argument  is  against  the  freedom  of  the  will ;  we  know  we’re 
free,  and  that’s  the  end  on ’t.”  All  mere  external  observa¬ 
tion  and  all  a  priori  reasoning  respecting  human  nature  I 
regard  as  not  worthy  to  be  compared  with  the  testimony  of 
consciousness.  It  is  the  universal  testimony  of  consciousness 
that  there  is  a  freedom  of  will,  a  power  superior  to  the  mo- 


ATTENTION-,  MEMORY,  WILL. 


75 


tive  powers,  a  real  self  control,  an  ego  which  is  not  controlled 
by,  but  itself  controls,  every  inward  impulse  and  every  intel¬ 
lectual  power  of  the  soul  and  spirit.  This  ego,  this  master 
of  the  moral  mechanism,  is  the  will ;  and  in  its  last  analysis  | 
all  moral  action  and  all  moral  character  depends  on  the  ; 
action  and  on  the  character  of  this  ego,  this  master  of  the  f 
whole  nature,  this  captain  of  the  ship,  this  lord  of  the  intel-  t 
lectual  and  mental  domain. 


THE  SOUL. 


76 


A  STUDY  IN  HUMAN  NATURE. 


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